


Purple. (And Black And Blue)

by PaisleyWraith



Series: Paisley's Mysterion [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-03-07 14:19:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13436595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaisleyWraith/pseuds/PaisleyWraith
Summary: Kyle Broflovski loves his boyfriend: Kenny is vibrant, full of bad jokes and adoration for those he loves. But Kenny is a coin, and on the other side is the vigilante that delves into the darkest crud the city has to offer.





	1. Bruises

Kyle was generally considered clever. He knew that, enjoyed that, it was something he could hold onto. He wasn’t just good at school, he was logical and quick on his feet and somehow he felt he shouldn’t have been surprised that he ended up becoming an informant for a vigilante. Kenny already relied on him on a daily basis, just as Kyle did in return. 

Kenny’s ‘alter ego’ that came out at nightfall to protect the town often stopped by the apartment if he ran into a road block. Whether it was for a lead, an idea, sometimes to just run plan by, he could wake up to find the shadow over his bed or a figure behind him while he poured a late-night bowl of cereal.

The things Kenny was but didn’t like to project came out in Mysterion. Every bit of bitterness and darkness the man had ever encountered was shouldered by the persona. As previously abused and neglected by not only his family, but his friends, the loving and kind-hearted blond already held a lot of weight. Add on this warped sense of mortality, morality, and his ultra-focused obsession of justice by his own hand, Mysterion was barely recognizable at first glance to the person Kyle loved.

The differences and similarities were… intriguing. Kenny normally was open and loving…except for when he was upset. Then he joked off any negativity and it was like pulling teeth sometimes to figure out how he was really feeling. Mysterion wore negativity gladly, closing himself off to any positive emotions or slip-ups. He said what he thought without soft words or shrugs, brutally honest to the point of startling him sometimes. He didn’t pull punches…except with Kyle.

Mysterion was dangerous, he knew. The whole city knew who he was, the vigilante who showed no mercy and gave no leeway. He left criminals broken and bleeding, came out at night with the rest of the scum in the city to try and right some wrongs. He was dangerous. Only his demeanor very visibly softened if he ran into his boyfriend, the only reveal that Kenny was indeed behind the mask. Mysterion was a mask himself, and damn if it wasn’t fun to try and get a glimpse of Kenny while he was hiding.

Mysterion had come up behind him one night while he brushed his teeth, looking like a kid in one of Kenny’s too-large shirts on and with a frothing mouth of toothpaste.

“Kyle,” He’d said, in that deep voice that both sounded stupid and utterly unforgettable, “I need your help.”

Kyle had nearly impaled himself with the toothbrush, choking on toothpaste and having to rinse his mouth out before he drowned. 

“How the fuck did you get into the bathroom, Kenny?” He asked, still spitting.

“I’m Mysterion,” He corrected. “And this can’t wait, Kyle, I need you.”

“What now?” He asked, beginning to wash his face. “You just went out last week, Ken. And came back like you tried getting in a fistfight with a truck.”

Kenny would make a joke about the truck being in worse shape, but Mysterion crossed his arms.

“I need to see the notes you took on your trial today,” Mysterion told him. “Now.”

Kyle looked over, giving the man a once-over. He looked strange among the worn tiles and pasted colors of their bathroom. Like he didn’t belong there. The grit and blood of the street didn’t belong in their little townhouse.

“Kyle,” Mysterion spoke sharply.

Kyle shook his head.

“Right. Kenny, I haven’t even typed them up yet,” Kyle protested. “It’s not a major story. I’m still new to the office, they’re just putting me on random sh-”

“There’s more to the story than they think,” Mysterion interrupted him. “I need those notes, Kyle.”

“What is there more to? I say I deserve to know too,” Kyle commented, hanging up his towel. “Also, do you see this? It’s called picking up after myself in the bathroom. In case you’ve never witnessed it before.”

Mysterion growled. “Don’t be funny. I can’t tell you, I just need you to trust me.”

Don’t be funny wasn’t something he’d ever heard Kenny say. Something _he_ occasionally said, sure.

Kyle fixed him with a look, the taller man not even stirring. Aside from the rise and fall of his chest, he might as well not even be alive.

“Discussing the contents of the trial would be illegal,” Kyle said tiredly, “And I’ve just started here, Ken.”

Mysterion’s jaw seemed to twitch. “What, do you want me to ask nicely or some shit? Quit fucking around, Kyle.”

Kyle’s eyes glittered. He crossed his arms as well, stepping forward within an arm’s distance of Mysterion.

“Why would I just hand you something if I don’t know why?” Kyle demanded. He hadn’t been this close to Mysterion before. It was strange. A dizzying kind of feeling, to be right next to someone who could snap human bones in half or take bullets and keep coming. Yes, it was still Kenny. But Kenny never let Kyle see any of this darkness underneath. It was fascinating.

“Because I need you to.” There was the softening. A flicker of blue eyes, the smoothing of the grimace on his face. Just for Kyle.

Kyle pursed his lips. That wasn’t an answer.

Yet he found himself walking away from Mysterion, to their bedroom, where he’d set his messenger bag down once he got home. He could faintly hear the swish of a cloak behind him, meaning the vigilante was following.

“You can’t keep them,” Kyle protested. “I don’t want to be fired.”

“Make a copy for me?”

The words were too soft to be Mysterion. Kyle turned to see the masked man’s eyes fixated on his legs.

Kenny had a very obvious thing for his bare legs, which was really weird to see on Mysterion’s face. Not as open, of course, but by now Kyle knew how to read Kenny’s face, even if he could only see half of it. 

Kyle made up his mind. If there was a time to play a dangerous game, Mysterion already seemed easy to crack tonight.

He took pictures of the notes on his phone, maybe taking longer to line them up and focus than needed.

“You owe me,” Kyle said firmly. “I like hard copies of everything.”

“Feel rewarded in the fact you’re assisting justice,” Mysterion replied, unamused. 

“I’m not the hero,” Kyle protested. “I’m a court reporter.”

“I’m not a hero either, Kyle.” Mysterion watched him with indifferent eyes. “I think you forget that a lot of the time.”

“I get to decide how I perceive you, don’t I?” Kyle snapped in reply, seeing Mysterion twitch.

“I think you get me, and who you know me as, confused a lot of the time,” The vigilante met him for tone. “We’re not the same.”

“You both seem to like ogling me in your shirts,” Kyle threw at him, and Mysterion physically drew back.

“…Shut the fuck up, Kyle.” The man stuttered.

Kyle smirked. “You’re who the city is scared shitless of, huh?”

Ooh, that seemed to piss him off. Mysterion flung his cape over one shoulder, moving so he could stare down at Kyle with all his height.

“Don’t mock me,” He threatened. “You’re too comfortable with me.”

“Wonder the fuck why.” Kyle rolled his eyes at him.

Mysterion really didn’t like being made fun of. He seemed to seethe, that dangerous aura back with a vengeance.

“You need my help, you’re going to have to put up with me,” Kyle mentioned as he went back to recording his notes. “Don’t give me lectures and don’t try to scare me. I literally wake up next to you every day.”

Mysterion was still fuming.

“You’re pissed,” Kyle noted, mockingly. The guy looked like a pouting child.

“We need to have a professional relationship,” Mysterion managed. He got his gruff, angry voice back under control. “You need to take this seriously. You’re treating it like a game.”

“I know it’s not a game,” Kyle set his phone down to lean against the dresser, dropping the teasing. “I don’t have a problem with you asking me for help. But I have a problem with you waltzing into our home and pretending it’s not you. Like you need to make me scared of you.”

“I am not him.” Mysterion stepped forward, back into his space. “Kyle.”

Kyle’s hand shot out to shove his chest, to keep him away. Despite the fact Mysterion could stop him from touching him, he didn’t. He glanced down at his hand then back up. Staring.

“Just accept that you treat me differently than anyone else,” Kyle told him, voice lowering to something gentle. “Whatever you have to prove, you don’t have to prove to me.”

Easing again, Mysterion took his wrist and attempted to push his hand away. Kyle resisted, meaning Mysterion was reluctant to use the force to actually remove him. 

“I’ve got nothing to prove,” He responded, his voice cold. “And you’re making this take longer than it needs to. Give me the papers, Kyle. I’m leaving.”

“Let go of my hand,” Kyle demanded in reply.

“Stop trying to pick a fight,” Mysterion retorted.

“Stop acting like a douchebag in a mask,” Kyle lifted his chin to look him in the eyes. “And let go of my hand, Kenny.”

Mysterion’s exhale was a little too long.

“Mysterion,” Kyle spoke again, coolly. “Let. Go.”

Mysterion did, moving fully into Kyle’s space. The redhead froze up, staring, as the vigilante pressed his chest to Kyle’s.

Mysterion smirked, Kenny’s smirk, and Kyle realized that he had the papers he’d sat down on the chest of drawers.

“You fucker,” Kyle hissed, grabbing a handful of cloak. “I wasn’t done copying.”

“You had time,” Mysterion smirked. “Too fucking bad.”

Fuck it. Kyle yanked on the cloak, but Mysterion had anticipated it. He covered Kyle’s mouth, leaning down to speak against his own hand, between Kyle’s lips and his.

“I think you’re still not taking me seriously,” Mysterion’s rasp turned into a dangerous purr that sent shivers down his back. “It’s not that I don’t care about you. But I need you to understand that I’m not, and can’t, be Kenny. Not nights like this. He’ll come back to you. But don’t treat me like him.”

Kyle wanted to argue, automatically licking his lips. Despite wearing gloves, Mysterion’s expression seemed to darken into something very recognizable to Kyle.

“He’ll always come back to you,” Mysterion repeated as his fingers trailed lightly over his cheeks. “And he’ll be happy to play whatever games you like.”

“Somehow, I think you like games, too.” Kyle replied resentfully as Mysterion finally moved back with his notes.

Mysterion smirked, cape whipping around as he left the room, somehow less cooler than he entered.

“And fuck you too!” Kyle called after him, and didn’t get a reply.

Dammit.

\--

Kyle was awakened before dawn the next morning by papers being thrown at him. He squinted, looking down to see his own handwriting. He looked back up, still glaring against the faint light, to see Kenny in his regular clothes smiling down at him.

“Go back to Gotham,” Kyle grumbled lightly, turning back over in bed to burrow under his fluffy blankets. “Unless you’re hurt. Then you better tell me now, or I’ll kick your ass later.”

He heard Kenny snort, bed dipping as the boy crawled into the bed along with his partner.

“What, are you mad at me, Ky?” Kenny’s warm arms wrapped around his waist as he spoke in a teasing tone. The tone was light, but there was always a serious question there. Kenny wasn’t always the best at figuring out when Kyle was actually pissed and when he wasn’t.

“No.” Kyle admitted. He turned over, snuggling into Kenny’s side and earning a sweet kiss on the forehead. “You’re deflecting again.”

“I’m not hurt,” Kenny replied lightly, and Kyle resigned himself to it being likely all he’d get him to say.

Kenny outright refused to talk about Mysterion to the point where he refused to acknowledge that he _was_ Mysterion. If Kyle started asking questions, he’d made quips about how hot the new vigilante was, ask whether Kyle was leaving him for a cooler guy, he seemed to be amassing a list of dumbest fucking responses to Kyle trying to talk about his heroism.

And it was heroism. Kyle might not have gotten under Mysterion’s skin, but he had Kenny wrapped around his finger. He knew the kid. Kenny’s heart was always in the right place.

Kyle reached to sleepily curl his arms around his boyfriend. “You have classes today?”

“Nope.” One of Kenny’s hands slid under his shirt to gently stroke down his spine. “I got an essay, though.”

“Mmn,” Kyle mumbled. “I’ll read over it later if you want. Have the story to write later.”

“Sounds great,” Kenny stretched lightly and Kyle snuggled further against the man, one hand curling against his side. Kenny flinched.

Kyle sat up, so quickly that static sparked in his hair. Kenny froze, eyes widening, then tried to grin.

“Hey-” He didn’t get any farther before Kyle yanked his shirt up, causing him to wince.

“Holy fucking shit.” Kenny’s torso was spottled with faint brown bruises from the other day, but new ones were discoloring his skin. Ugly green-purple, the small ones were about the size of Kyle’s fist and the large ones…

“ _How_ the fucking shit?” Kyle breathed, touching one of the bruises. “Kenny, what did you _do_?”

The blond was shirking, which would have been hilarious to see any other time. His smile was gone and he was looking at Kyle guiltily.

“What the fuck!” Kyle pressed his hand further against the largest, almost entirely purple and black, covering his waist. “Kenny!”

“It looks worse than it is,” Kenny finally found his voice again, sitting up without so much as wincing. Kyle didn’t even know how he could be moving at all. “It’s just bruises, Ky. I’m okay.”

“I told you to tell me if you were hurt!” Kyle towered over him, kneeling on his knees and speaking with fire. “Kenny, you need to tell me if you’re-” He but himself off, standing on the bed to step over him and hop off.

“Kyle?”

The sheer panic in Kenny’s voice made Kyle turn. Blue eyes wide, shirt lifted enough to reveal the ugly discoloration of his body, the boy looked frozen with a terrified smile on his face. Kyle stopped, heart skipping. He softened his voice for him, calmly.

“I’m just getting you some ice.”

“Oh.”

Kyle pressed his lips tightly together. Kenny had been in bad relationships before. He didn’t like talking about it, but Kyle knew his friend better than probably anyone else. He’d just wished he’d been around to help him through some of it. He hadn’t even known, not until the first time he walked away from a fight, thinking it was better than blowing up at Kenny. The other thought he was leaving, and it was the first time he ever saw Kenny panic.

Unlike Mysterion, that wasn’t a fun side to prod at. 

“Just lie down,” Kyle’s voice was gentle. “Rest. I’ll be right back.”

Kenny seemed to settle, and Kyle moved into their kitchen. Ice packs were, of course, part of what Kyle brought to the household. Kenny hadn’t even owned headache medicine. The guy had no sense of self-preservation, and was more likely to deal silently with even broken bones rather than say something.

Kyle returned to see Kenny stretched out, shirt off entirely. The bruising looked horrifying.

“You’re likely I pity you too much to poke you in the side for this,” Kyle grumbled as he wrapped an ice pack in a towel. “Hold this against the darker one. Or whichever hurts more.”

“Sure,” Kenny said, sounding like he was humoring Kyle more than anything.

It wasn’t really helping. Kyle fetched a glass of water and painkillers, feeling a bit like he was trying to fix a laceration with a bandage.

He watched as Kenny gulped down the pills, eyes drifting to the marks. He reached out again, gently brushing his fingertips against the marks. He typically had pretty skin, and admittedly, was good-looking. Right now it was hard to look at him and feel anything but fear.

“Kenny,” Kyle’s hands gently trailed over his marred skin. He kept his voice gentle and even, knowing it was hard for Kenny to refuse something sweet and honest. “How did you get this?”

The boy looked tired. He leaned in head back against the pillow, sighing. He didn’t seem to mind Kyle’s cool hand pressing against the marks, so Kyle didn’t move it.

“Job hazard?” Kenny offered sheepishly.

“Try again,” Kyle deadpanned. “Don’t make me ask Mysterion to stop beating up my boyfriend.”

Now that got him a smile. He lifted his head, looking over at Kyle with sparkling eyes. “I love you, man.”

“I love you too, so please stop getting hurt,” Kyle sat back, crossing his arms over Kenny’s shirt. “One of these days, I’ll shadow you so I can keep an eye on what you’re doing.”

“Don’t, babe,” Kenny said, seriously. “Don’t even kid. I would never have you out there.”

“Why?” Kyle asked, setting up his point.

“Because it’s not safe,” Kenny fell into it easily, his protectiveness at its peak. “I couldn’t see you get hurt, Ky. It’d kill me.”

Kyle looked down at his chest. Looked back up. Opened his mouth.

“Don’t- I got it,” Kenny interrupted, sighing so heavily it seemed to shake him. “I know. I know it’s a double-standard, I know I take too many chances, I know you don’t like it. But I will always come back to you. I promise. You can’t make that promise.”

“Neither can you,” Kyle protested stubbornly. “What about the day you don’t come back to me? When it’s worse than just bruises or cuts?”

Something faraway was in Kenny’s eyes, but he seemed to shake himself before Kyle could comment.

“I’ll always come back,” Kenny said firmly. “I promise.”

Kyle set his jaw. He wanted to fight. But he’d seen Mysterion. The character was terrifying; he was near invincible, incredibly powerful, scarier than Kyle had expected. He was nothing like Kenny. Kenny, who Kyle wanted to love and protect and keep close and safe. The person before him was startling in his difference to his other self. Mysterion might as well not wear a mask for how similar he was to Kenny.

He wanted to fight, but Mysterion would not be contained.

“You better,” Kyle said, jaw set, “Tell me from now on. Right away.”

“I hate making you worry,” Kenny said softly.

“I always worry,” Kyle said. Kenny winced. “And I always will, so don’t tell me not to. You would.”

He reached for Kenny’s hand, and the other man sandwiched his hand and brought it to his lips to kiss.

“I would,” Kenny admitted, trying to pull Kyle down. “Scares the shit out of me just thinking of you seeing the things I do.”

This was more than Kenny had ever admitted before. Kyle refused to be pulled down, struggling against the tug.

“So promise you’ll tell me. Keep me from worrying if you’re hiding something serious.” Kyle thought that was very fair.

“I will if you come here,” Kenny said quietly, eyes burning blue.

“Kenny, you look like someone went at you with a fucking meat tenderizer,” Kyle said incredulously.

“I’ll tenderize your meat, baby.”

Kyle felt himself twitch. He wanted to grab the nearest pillow and beat him with it. “Kenny.”

“Kyle.”

“Just because you’re hurt doesn’t mean I won’t fucking. Strangle. You.”

“God, I hope you do, what a fetish, baby,” Kenny was on a roll, purring as he pulled Kyle more insistently. “Come here.”

“You’re not getting shit with lines like that,” Kyle tried squirming, but Kenny had a good grip. Or he wasn’t trying that hard.

“Please, Kyle,” Kenny sent him his sweetest smile, knowing what buttons to press on Kyle. “I just want you close. I’m okay, I just want you to come lie down.”

Kyle gave him a look, but moved to lie down next to him. Kenny immediately snuggled close, ice pack shoved aside in order to curl around Kyle.

“This hurts you, doesn’t it?” Kyle murmured, fingers skittering over his bruises.

“I think I could take a nap if you stay here,” Kenny wrapped his arms around the boy.

“I think you’re bargaining.”

“Take me up on it?”

Dammit. Kenny’s voice was sweet enough to hit Kyle’s heart directly. He sighed, pressing his cheek against Kenny’s bare shoulder.

“Only if you really sleep.”

“No worries there,” Kenny murmured against his hair. “Don’t worry, Ky. I’m okay. And I won’t hide from you again.”

Sometimes he felt so frustrated when Kenny caved. Kyle would roll his eyes if Kenny could only see.

“Good,” Was all he decided to say. “Get some sleep, hero.”

“Aw, Ky,” Kenny’s voice was warm, full of fondness. “You know, I think you’re the only person who still thinks I’m a hero.”


	2. Scratches

Kyle wasn’t meant to be there. He wished he’d never been there at all. He’d been checking out a bag of groceries at that intersection, within walking distance of home. Kenny never did any work so close to home, not since he stopped working on mild crimes and started to delve into the world of big players in the city.

He had no reason to think he’d see him. But crime didn’t just stay to one are, unfortunately. And Kyle was given a close-up look on exactly what Mysterion could do.

Two individuals burst into the store while he was checking out, both covered in blood and crying. More people flooded in, others shoving past and joining people on the street to watch.

Kyle and the cashier girl looked at each other. She glanced at who he assumed was the manager, who was on the phone hopefully with the police. He was all for staying inside away from the invading armies/aliens/incoming apocalypse but he heard one single word that changed his mind.

Mysterion.

Kyle set down his bag and walked towards the exit. There was too much chaos for anyone to tell him otherwise, and he shoved past people going in and out to step out into the street.

People were holding phones up over each other’s heads, chattering and gasps echoing around the street. And then Kyle watched his boyfriend get thrown across the street.

People reacted, but fewer people than he expected ran for cover. Kyle’s heart stopped as he watched Kenny hit a light post, a crack audible as the boy hit.

He stood on his toes, trying to see who the adversary was. Looked like some new kid. Someone who could put on a mask and run along with all the other small-time heroes of the area. But even if he was broad-shouldered, he shouldn’t be able to get a hit on Kenny. The vigilante was quick and exceptionally strong, it wasn’t really newcomers, the kind that wanted to become larger names, that could take him on.

Oh. There wasn’t just one.

Mysterion jumped back to his feet, meeting one of the smaller boys clothed in sickly green to block and retaliate. Three altogether. Wearing hoodies and black masks over their faces. 

They were talking to him. They were saying something and Kyle couldn’t hear. He finally shoved past another layer of people to try and see, ignoring the looks and elbows he got in return. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be real.

Kenny took one down, the boy writhing in pain on the sidewalk. A rounded kick from the purple-clad hero was intercepted and he was shoved away, having to catch his balance. The other boy came in, looking like he was wearing knives on his hands.

Kyle squinted. That looked like something he’d seen before. That wannabe hero Mysterion was so annoyed with he actually showed up at the apartment to vent. However, where that hero had failed delightfully at even getting close to Mysterion, this guy was actually halfway competent.

Because he didn’t go after Mysterion.

The bystanders started to move, and Kyle backed off along with them, as the man headed towards the crowd. The other man slowed Mysterion and Kyle realized they were not joking around.

“Run, get out!” He and a handful of others realized what was going on around the same time, and they began to scatter.

Five people down from Kyle, the boy was close enough that the law student could hear him gasping. To his horror and utter confusion, he wasn’t interested in hostages.

Three metal points were shoved into the junction between the young man’s neck and shoulder. The noise he made was remarkably inhuman. People were running now, screaming, and Kyle realized they locked the doors to the market. He followed the crowd, eyes on the violent individual. 

“You asked for this!” The boy screamed, stabbing with disjointed ferocity. “You chase us down and punish us for crimes like his?” He pointed to Mysterion with knifed claws, screeching. “You called for our deaths? You kill us off we’ll make sure we deserve it!”

Kyle realized he was talking to the man he’d stabbed. This was…premeditated. They’d been going after that guy, specifically. Kyle’s gaze swiveled to Mysterion, who rushed across the road to full-body tackle the boy down.

The other man was bleeding, stumbling blind. The vigilante was trying to pin the man, but his costume shredded easily as if it were made of tissue paper. Kyle clenched his jaw, watching from a distance. Police sirens were coming ever closer, the man who’d been stabbed was prone on the ground. Kyle couldn’t see the nature of his wounds, but…

Mysterion forced the man’s claws into his other arm, causing him pain, at least, but he was bleeding profusely at this point.

Kyle felt so detatched. This couldn’t be real. He wasn’t standing in the street, watching his boyfriend get bloodied and tossed around. He didn’t just see a man die. He stared, silent, frozen, as the reality began to sink in. As Mysterion swept away at the first sign of police. Both green-clad men on the ground, the one without knives convulsing from whatever Mysterion had struck him with and one man dead.

This wasn’t real.

\--

Kyle got to the apartment after Kenny. The door wasn’t locked or even shut all the way blood smeared on the door handle. He froze, stomach churning.

Kyle threw the front door open, clicking it shut behind him. “Kenny?” His heart was racing in his ears. “Kenny!” No answer. That worried him more than anything, and he quickly searched their apartment without even pausing to kick off his shoes.

Kyle flew into their bathroom to see Mysterion sprawled out on the tile, chest heaving. His uniform was covered in blood, and he had a towel pressed against it, like he weakly pulled it off the rack to try and slow the bleeding.

“Kenny!” Kyle seemed to startle him, Mysterion jerking lethargically before he blearily looked up at the redhead.

Kyle collapsed next to him, pushing his hood back away from his face. “Fucking shit, Kenny, what am I going to do with you?”

“Just give it a second,” Kenny’s voice whispered from under the mask rather than Mysterion’s.

Kyle grit his teeth. Kenny had quicker healing than the normal person, and was refusing treatment more and more frequently as he promised Kyle he was starting to control it. Right now, though, the gashes in his chest were pooling with blood.

Kyle placed the towel back against his chest, adding pressure Kenny seemed to weak to try. The boy groaned in pain, a definite sign he was more Kenny than Mysterion at the moment. Kyle felt the liquid seeping through the towel, warming his fingers and making them stick to the cloth. He shuddered.

“Kenny, I think you need to-”

“No, no, no hospital, Kyle,” Kenny interrupted, teeth grit, slipping back into Msyterion. “Give me a second. I’ll be fine.”

Kyle growled, ripping off his mask with such ferocity that Kenny froze. “You can’t die on me.”

Kenny avoided his gaze, still growling. “Everything is fine, Kyle. I won’t leave you. Don’t worry.”

Kyle looked him in the eyes. His hands were pressed against his chest, trying to keep him from bleeding out, and he was saying everything was fine? Yeah. If he thought that was fine with him, he had another thing coming.

“You’re fighting actual villains, now, huh?” Kyle watched Kenny’s eyes widen slightly. “Or whatever that guy was on about. You want to explain?”

Kenny, against Kyle’s protest, reached up to pull the hood back over his head. “It’s just some crazy randoms, Kyle. I don’t have the luxury of walking around stopping petty thievery and vandalism. The city is becoming home to more and more people that take everything into their own hands.”

“…And?” Kyle grabbed his face with one hand, smearing blood over his skin as he forced Kenny to look at him. Mysterion glared back, eyes glittering dangerously. He never liked Kyle touching him. He didn’t care. “So you have to police them all because _you’re_ one of them? Because you’ve been around the longest?”

“They went after that reporter today,” Mysterion growled, elbowing Kyle off to check his wounds. Kyle nearly jabbed him in one of them just so maybe he could feel exactly what he did when he walked through that damn door… “They’re going after any opposition, this gang has no leadership and it’s a mess.”

“I saw,” Kyle said, and Mysterion glanced at him again. “I was there.”

Now he had Mysterion’s undivided attention.

“I didn’t see you,” The vigilante said, eyes narrowing. As if he thought Kyle was lying.

“I was standing in front of the grocery store,” Kyle said coldly. “I think I just saw a man die today and I thought maybe I’d have to see you die, too.”

“You shouldn’t have been there,” Mysterion protested, dabbling lightly at the scratches on his chest. He tossed the towel down, making Kyle take a breath. “I had no idea you were even around, Kyle, what the fuck were you doing, just watching?”

He let the towel thing go for now. “You’re way out of line,” Kyle said, smacking Mysterion’s hands out of the way to look at the scratches. They genuinely had gotten better, but that only made him angrier, somehow. “I’m allowed to fucking _exist_ , Kenneth. I’m not exploring back alleys or some shit, I was getting food!”

“Mysterion-”

“Shut the fuck up already with that!” Kyle finally snapped. He reached to rip off the hood and Mysterion caught his hand. Easily. As if Kyle had no strength behind it whatsoever. That poured gasoline onto the turmoil and Kyle outright went to smack him in the arm for it. Mysterion caught his other hand.

Kyle swore angrily and went to knee him, but Mysterion easily pinned him to the wall. Again, like nothing.

This wasn’t the least bit nice, his face had hit the wall hard enough to make his eyes water, pain shooting through his nose and lip. A primal sort of fear sparked, not the kind from having someone you love and trust overpowering you, but the kind you feel when it’s someone you know you couldn’t outmatch and weren’t sure whether they’d let you go.

Kyle wasn’t weak. Kyle had won more than his fair share of childhood brawls, particularly when he moved out of South Park back in middle school and became just a bit testier. But Kenny was something else. Nothing about him would ever suggest he could do what he could, but… well. It was established he wasn’t normal, exactly.

He wasn’t going to ask to be let go. The thought was humiliating. Instead he squirmed, trying to wrench from his grasp and somehow making an even larger fool of himself.

“Stop moving,” Mysterion ordered. “And calm the fuck down.”

Kyle was beyond livid. His ears were hot, face red with fury. He had to actually struggle to force out a sentence, he was so angry.

“You have me _pinned_ to the fucking _wall_ like I’m one of your targets and I’M SUPPOSED TO BE CALM?!”

Kyle’s voice rang through the bathroom, causing pain even to his own ears. For a moment, there was just silence. Mysterion froze, grip loosening. Kyle thrashed and forced himself free, whirling to see the man staring like he wasn’t quite believing what he was seeing.

Kyle’s chest heaved with his breaths, wishing they were ten years old again so he could shove him face-first into the snow on the playground for being a motherfucking _bitch_ and not let him back up. Of course, Kenny hadn’t actually been on the receiving end of many tussles with Kyle, and he’d been so tiny back then Kyle would have felt bad anyhow.

Even as it was, Kyle couldn’t bring himself to land an actual legitimate strike on Kenny. It’d kill him if he did. Instead, he jabbed an index finger into his collarbone to accentuate his point.

“Don’t you ever fucking do that again,” He warned, and slammed the door to the bathroom behind him.

\--

Kyle curled up in their room, door shut but not locked. Wrapped in a blanket, textbooks abandoned on the desk when he’d given up trying to focus. He wasn’t even watching Netflix on his laptop anymore, just half-listening as he watched the darkening world outside.

He hated this. Feeling helpless. That was never who he was, not at any point in his life. He wasn’t one to be passive and certainly didn’t like people removing his power. That unsettled him more than he wanted to admit, and then he became angry over feeling unsettled. The worst part was he’d forgive Kenny the next moment the guy walked into their room, and then they’d be back to this again. Kenny ignoring all his concerns or protests, pretending like he wasn’t out risking his life every day, yet somehow getting angry at Kyle for being in the same vicinity. On and on and on and on. 

The door opened. Kyle didn’t bother to look over.

Surprisingly, Kenny didn’t immediately reach to touch him. Instead, he walked around the bed, sitting on the floor to look up at Kyle. He was wearing normal clothes, and didn’t seem hindered, which meant his wounds had gotten to a point where they didn’t bother him. The trepidation in his eyes caught Kyle’s attention, however, and he stared back at him.

The two boys watched each other, both asking the same thing.

“I can’t deal with this,” Kyle finally said, and Kenny closed his eyes like he’d been punched. He nodded, slowly, crossing his arms so his nails clawed into his skin.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, and Kyle’s anger bled out entirely.

“Yeah.” He replied, moving to rest his chin on his arms. “I know you are.”

Kyle finally had to pause the show. The noise was getting on his nerves. Kenny was saying nothing, which was…unsettling.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Kenny said again, and that downwards spiral was not something that would be beneficial right now.  
“Don’t, Ken,” Kyle gently corrected. The boy looked up, so resigned and miserable that it physically pained him.

They looked at each other, and Kyle reached out to brush back his blond fringe. He hadn’t even taken a shower, dried sweat making his hair stick up ridiculously. 

Kenny leaned into the touch, and Kyle didn’t take his eyes off him. With the movie stopped, there was nothing else to hear, aside from the traffic outside and the soft tick of the clock in their living room.

“So…” Kenny spoke, voice low. “Is this…it? Or are we…changing things, what’s…”

“I don’t know,” Kyle said, miserably. “Ken, I can’t take the two-sided thing anymore. I can’t do that.”

Kenny winced. Kyle lovingly brushed through his hair.

“You’re not two people,” Kyle told him, watching him avoid his gaze. “In public, sure, I can understand you pretending you’re different. But here, with me, I just…” He made a frustrated noise, waving his hand in a descriptive manner. “I don’t need to be protected or sheltered. I can’t keep stalking blogs to see if you got hurt or not, I’m tired of you lying about things or omitting things, or outright pretending you aren’t Mysterion at all!” He took a breath, rolling over on his back.

“I love you,” Kyle said, quietly. “I just don’t get it, and it’s really getting to me.”

Kenny stood, leaning against the bed to gaze down at him, every line of his face apologetic.

“I might’ve…taken it too far…” He seemed to be forcing himself to speak. He dragged a hand through his own hair. “I didn’t know it was bothering you this much.”

“I can’t keep wondering about what you’re not telling me,” Kyle said, sitting up. “I don’t know what you think you’re accomplishing. I promise I can handle knowing you’re hurt, as long as I know-”

“You just- you’re always worried,” Kenny blurted. “I’ll always be fine in the end. Shit, Kyle, I had worse than what I had today.”

“Then let me goddamn worry!” Kyle flared slightly, glaring up at him. “You can tolerate a little worrying. I think you might actually need it. You think I’m not worrying now?”

Kenny seemed to be trying to think of a good argument for that.

“I’ve never once heard you admit you’re Mysterion,” Kyle told him. “If I didn’t have to patch up your stupid, bleeding body that time you wouldn’t have even told me, would you?”

“Probably not,” Kenny admitted. “It’s…Mysterion is a different case, Kyle. There’s something darker that happens when I put on the mask, okay? I don’t feel like myself anymore, it’s-”

He struggled, and Kyle remained quiet, giving him time to think.

“I feel like I’m capable of horrible things, sometimes,” He finally said. “Really, really bad stuff. And I guess…I just didn’t want it to bleed into my normal life, y’know?” Kenny’s blue eyes fixed on Kyle. “Except it still kind of did. Kyle, I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I did that-”

Ah. The bathroom thing. If he were Kenny, he’d joke about it not being the first time. But Kyle was tired of the whole joke-it-away spiel.

“It’s okay,” Kyle said, visibly surprising his boyfriend. “I’m serious, I was acting like I was going to hurt you-”

“I know you wouldn’t,” Kenny defended him. “Not really, anyhow.”

“I still reached for you. The wall, though…yes. Please don’t…it wasn’t so much you pinned me, it was….” Kenny was listening attentively, and Kyle felt stupid. “Look, if you disassociate Mysterion from yourself that much, for a split second I thought like it was someone else. Stupid as it is.”

“It’s not stupid,” Kenny said, and finally moved to sit on the bed next to him. “I shoved you face-first into a wall way harder than was ever called for. Are you okay?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Kyle nudged him. “That’s sort of my point. Ken, I can handle more than you think-”

“It’s not really that-” Kenny tried to interrupt but Kyle wasn’t having it.

“-How much easier would it be,” He said, waiting for Kenny to stop talking, “If you can just ask me for help rather than trying to wheedle information out of me as Mysterion? Just call me or tap me on the shoulder, no mystery or demands. If you can tell me where you’re going, rather than me coming home to an empty house. I have so much information at my fingertips, Kenny. If I knew what you were in, what you needed, I could help you.”

Kenny looked dumbstruck, and Kyle sat up fully to lean slightly into his space.

“Look, I’m smart,” He said, earning s snort from Kenny. Smiling, he continued. “I might not be able to withstand what you can, physically, but I can still be there if you let me. Not in a physical sense, but just let me in. Let me know what you do. I guarantee I can make your life a little easier. We can be a team.”

The words were corny, but Kenny no longer looked like his soul was expiring. The boy was smiling, eyes filled with warmth.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Kenny seemed to be protesting just to protest, without any heat.

“And I don’t want you to get hurt,” Kyle pointed out. “So let’s help each other. I can’t live not knowing anything anymore, Kenny. It’s killing me.”

The blond nodded, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Yeah. Yeah, I understand.” His hand dropped, expression focused in a way that was usually under a mask. It looked good on his face.

“So…” Kenny said, a tentative half-smile on his face. “I’m Mysterion.”

“Are you really?” Kyle tried to deadpan and started laughing halfway through. “I thought you were too attractive to just be an everyman.”

Kenny blushed, leaning to gently nudge Kyle affectionately.

“And you won’t get physically involved?” Kenny asked, head resting against Kyle’s.

“Nope. I already help you. Let’s just make it easier on both of us.” Kyle wrapped an arm around him, feeling Kenny relax.

“Okay,” He said, softly. “Okay. I can try this.”

“I guess I’ll accept that,” Kyle said, kissing his cheek. “Long as you’re telling me when you’re leaving and when you’re hurt.”

“To be honest, I thought you were going to ask me to stop altogether,” Kenny laughed weakly, nuzzling against him.

“I’d love to, Ken, believe me.” Kyle leaned back against him. “But I won’t.”

Kenny kissed the top of his head. Nothing more was said on that, but it hung there in the air. For now, Kyle would take him not covering this up. For not pretending he wasn’t someone he was, for pretending Mysterion didn’t care for him and pretending Kenny wasn’t out nearly dying every evening. That and an opportunity to make Kenny’s life easier was…relieving, to say the least.

“I love you,” Kenny murmured, wrapping himself around Kyle and pulling them down to snuggle on top of him. “So much, babe.”

Kyle thought about insisting Kenny shower first, but let it go. He combed his hands through Kenny’s hair, feeling him purr in delight.

“Love you too,” He said, feeling the deadly vigilante breathe reassuringly against his collarbone.

It’s a definite improvement.


	3. Scars

Kyle didn’t care what people said. He preferred to take all his notes down as hard copies. There was something satisfying in seeing the notebook slowly start to fill up, pages wrinkling under the stress of Kyle’s days and nights of research.

He had a whole separate notebook for superhero shit. He stayed late in the office to follow up on any stories that related to the new flooding of heroes and villains that were filing into the city. This was something Mysterion should probably know, since he’d mentioned they don’t exactly go around introducing themselves to one another. He was often jumped by someone he didn’t know.

Kyle flipped through the book at home, Mysterion standing at the end of it and staring down at the redhead.

“There’s more people in the grey area than anything,” Kyle was saying, thumbing through the pages. “I don’t know anything about most of these people. Those green guys you fought, though. They’re going around calling themselves ‘Tiles.’ Short for reptiles. Can I just say I’m glad you didn’t choose a stupid animal name for your persona?”

“You like the name Mysterion?” The vigilante mocked, lifting his chin. “I was a kid when I came up with that.”

“It beats ‘The Coon,’” Kyle said flatly. “But that guy isn’t trouble?”

“He’s a self-proclaimed hero,” Mysterion growled. “He doesn’t like me is all. He says I’m allied with villainy just because darkness is my persona.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. If the world only knew the person behind the mask of the eternally-feared Mysterion. The sunniest, dorkiest, sweetest kid you’d ever meet. “But back to the green guys-”

“The Tiles, yes,” Mysterion gently prodded.

“I’m not calling them that,” Kyle grumbled. “You were right about them not having a leader. They nearly killed that guy we saw the other day, but he’s alive. He will be leaving the city altogether, however. He was actually a columnist, for your information.”

“I know him,” Mysterion commented. “He’s said many, many things about me.”

“Yes, I’ve read them,” Kyle was not fond of the man. At all. He was calling for Mysterion to be labeled anything that would allow him to be taken down with deadly force, any cost. Dead. But he wouldn’t have shanked the guy himself. “I noticed a lot of the green gang’s ‘crimes’ tend to be assaults, break-ins, small things up until now.”

“If they don’t have a leader, they’re just a bunch of crazy vandals running loose,” Mysterion was still, cloak drawn around him. “Someone is bound to finally step over a line without any guidance. I’ll keep them in check. Anything else?”

Kyle filed through his notebook. “I have a lot of names in here. I can go through them or you can look through it when you get back.”

“I’ll look at it later,” Mysterion said, turning with a swish of his cape. “Unless you think there’s something pressing I need to know.”

“No,” Kyle said, drawing out the syllable slowly. Then he thought better of it. “Alright. Maybe a question.”

Mysterion stopped, turning. Ever since the bathroom incident, the persona had been much more reserved. He gave Kyle more space, spoke more softly. Kenny clearly was uneasy about it.

Kyle tossed the notebook onto their coffee table and sat up on the couch, leaning on his knees.

“Who would you say is your biggest problem right now? Out there?” He asked, and Mysterion lowered his head slightly.

For a moment he thought he might not answer, but he realized Kenny was thinking.

“It’s mostly unpredictability that gets in my way,” Mysterion finally said, looking back at Kyle. With the hood pulled up so far, all Kyle could see were his lips. “I have a bad habit of underestimating some people.”

Well. An honest answer. Kyle was gratified, and smiled at the cloaked man, who he swore nearly smiled in return.

In this case.

“What’s the worst you’ve ever been hurt?” Kyle asked, and Mysterion shook his head.

“There’s not much people can do to me physically,” He said, in a voice that might almost be called reassuring if it wasn’t being growled out at Kyle. “You’ve seen me at one of my worsts, Kyle. That’s why I came to you.”

The Jewish boy took a breath. This was when he was just starting to date Kenny, before he even really knew that much about Mysterion. Back when Mysterion just started to branch away from petty crimes. His first big job was a mess, and Kyle had been able to see his internal organs as he gasped, dropping his head in Kyle’s lap and just begging not to be left alone.

That had been all Kenny. Not Mysterion.

Kyle stood, walking around the table and up to Mysterion. The vigilante shuffled but held still as Kyle stood within arm’s reach of him. 

He looked him over, what for some people might be the last thing they see. Mysterion constantly teetered on the border of good and grey enough that Kyle might question it. Mysterion got caught up in moments, reacted out of rage. The incident was the first time he’d ever seen that up close. Around Kyle, the man displayed more Kenny. Interesting where that line was.

“One last question,” Kyle said, boldly pressing his luck. “And then I’ll let you go.”

The flicker of a smirk spread over his face. He lifted his chin to look at Kyle, eyes glittering.

“You’ll let me, will you?” That was definitely a smile now.

Kyle flushed, for some stupid reason, and cleared his throat. “What can I do, right now, that’s going to help you the most?” He asked, crossing his arms. “Information is easy for me to access. What do you need most?”

Mysterion seemed surprised, but pleased. He cocked his head, surveying the boy.

“Knowing what’s out there helps,” He said, and Kyle was startled by the voice. Mysterion’s voice was still low, still distinctly un-Kenny, but held something of a purr to it, smooth and sweet.

The figure stepped forward, enough to nearly touch Kyle. He reached up and cupped his face, actually touching Kyle, smoothing gloved fingers over his cheeks.

“If you want,” Mysterion finally said, watching Kyle with an unwavering gaze, “Try to locate specific areas these people stay in, if there’s any patterns. I want to know who inhabits where.”

“I told you,” He said, feeling oddly jittery. “Information is something I can get you easily. I’ll look into it.”

Mysterion nodded slightly. He was still staring and seemed like he was warring with himself.

“You need to be careful poking around,” He said, slowly. “I think you might be the last person in the city who actually likes me.”

Kyle laughed, definitely nervous now. Mysterion was still touching him. Why was he touching him? “I’m not exactly bounding down the office corridors announcing my intent.”

“Regardless,” Mysterion said, and the grit was back in his voice, dark and promising and the fingers on his face were gentle and light. “You cannot get hurt. Understand? I won’t let you.”

“Won’t let me, will you?” Kyle weakly tried to tease, but Mysterion was close and for some reason he was feeling unsteady on his feet.

“I won’t,” Mysterion growled, the fingers on his face suddenly turning forceful. “You’re the most brilliant man I’ve ever met. You’re also a fucking moron,” He tacked on, making Kyle squawk indignantly. “I’m not invincible, Kyle, and neither are you. Remember that.”

“What-” Kyle was about to ask what was bringing this on all of a sudden, but Mysterion suddenly yanked him in for a kiss and he lost all coherency after that.

‘Aggressive’ would be what Kyle would call Kenny’s affection when under the cloak. Which wasn’t something that ever seemed to apply to Kenny McCormick. The man was about as intimidating as a marshmallow on his own, even to people who’d known him for years.

Mysterion broke the kiss, breathing in Kyle’s attempts to get air back in his lungs, and the man smirked.

“Goodnight,” He said, and was out of Kyle’s arms the next minute, leaving the flabbergasted student standing in the middle of the living room with a red face and swollen lips.

Mysterion was a bastard when he wanted to be.

-

Kyle was woken by muffled swearing. He blinked, taking in the dark room and the figure currently cussing out the dresser.

“Kenny?” He asked, sitting up in bed to see the outline of the blond in the darkness.

“I’m home,” The answer came in an exhale, as if Kenny was sighing it. “It’s still about an hour until dawn. Go back to sleep, Kyle.”

Kyle didn’t, and instead watched as Kenny pulled a shirt over his head, shoving the dresser door back closed. Watched him stalk over the window, check it, and continue staring outside for some reason.

Well, he wasn’t bleeding. So that was already better than normal.

Kyle watched the boy, leaning back against the headboard. There was some light coming in from outside, outlining Kenny rather prettily as he faced the window.

Kyle narrowed his eyes.

There was something wrong about his arms. Wearing a loose tshirt, Kenny’s forearms were bare as the light hit them, so there was no reason Kyle ought to be seeing patterns.

He threw back the covers, brows furrowed, and padded out of bed and over to the man. Yes, there was something on his skin. Something silvery and thin, like Kyle was seeing the veins in his arm, but all over and Kenny ruined it by turning around.

“What was that?” Kyle demanded, reaching for Kenny’s arm. The blond let him, clearly questioning why he was being manhandled.

“Are you half-asleep, babe?” Kenny laughed at him sweetly, genuinely, which meant he wasn’t covering anything up.

Kyle ignored him, holding his wrist up to the light and turning it slightly.

“Kyle?” Kenny asked carefully, not attempting to take back his hand. “What are you looking at?”

There wasn’t anything there. Kyle swore he saw something, and it wasn’t some trick of his tired mind, he knew it wasn’t. He held up his own arm, twisting it. Nothing.

Kenny had suddenly fallen silent, and Kyle glanced up at him. Kenny’s defenses weren’t up quite quick enough for him to mask the look of understanding and fear.

“Kenny,” Kyle said slowly, hand still around his wrist. “What did I just see?”

Kenny took a quick breath.

“Don’t know, darlin’,” He smiled, gently pulling his wrist away. “What’d you think you saw?”

“I’m not sure,” Kyle would normally have tightened his grip, but after the forceful interaction they had, it seemed best to just let go. He did, reluctantly, though he crossed his arms and looked up at the man. “Something on your skin, I thought I saw it in the light.”

Kenny looked suspicious now.

“No you didn’t,” He said, sounding more confused than actually trying to convince Kyle of anything. He looked down at his own wrist, turning it in the light. “You…no.”

Kyle waited. Kenny seemed to be struggling with something.

“What did I see, Kenny,” He decided to gently prod. Something was up. If Kenny knew that he knew, maybe he’d spill. “Tell me.”

“Look, there’s things you still don’t know,” Kenny all but snapped, running his hands through his hair. “Okay? And I don’t know if you should know. But you couldn’t actually see that.”

“Kenny, what the fuck is going on?” Kyle was alarmed now, “How could I not see something I clearly did?” That didn’t make sense. “I mean…I saw it, clearly, or I wouldn’t have said anything.”

Kenny made a frustrated noise.

“I can’t even see them most of the time,” He finally said, sounding exhausted. “I don’t know how-”

“Kenny!” Kyle interrupted, and the boy finally looked at him. He held out his arm towards Kyle, resigned.

“I don’t know if you’ll be able to see it again,” Kenny’s voice was flat, low. There was a hint of Mysterion there that Kyle could just slightly catch. “I usually can’t see them myself.”

“What was it?” He asked, brushing his fingers over Kenny’s skin again. He couldn’t feel anything.

“Scars,” Kenny whispered, like it was a secret. “I don’t know why they’re visible sometimes and not others. But they’re scars.”

“That’s impossible,” Kyle blurted, stupidly. “You don’t scar.”

“Mmm,” Kenny made a disagreeing noise. He seemed to be looking anywhere but directly at Kyle. “I don’t scar normally, Ky. But it’s…everything I’ve had to go through seems to show up, sometimes. Like it’s all logged into my skin regardless. Just sometimes, and in certain light. I’ve never been able to figure it out.”

There. Kyle froze, watching as lines, small and thin, long and crooked, straight, wide, started spiderwebbing over Kenny’s skin. Almost like it was underneath, shimmering at the edges of his vision, disappearing if he concentrated too hard on it.

“What the fuck,” He breathed, running his fingers over the smooth, unblemished skin.

They went all the way up Kenny’s arm, and so did Kyle’s fingers, following what looked like thousands of small cuts and massive lacerations from maybe years in the past. His fingers stopped at the loose sleeve of his shirt, and the law student hesitated.

Kenny didn’t. He pulled his shirt back off, letting it drop and still avoiding his gaze. Kyle’s stomach dropped through the earth.

They were everywhere. Some brighter than others, some parts of his torso entirely covered, ever-changing between strange shapes and marks. There were the cuts from the other day, nearly white in their brightness, and underneath fading to something dull grey and at the very edge of his vision were small holes, long stripes, strange patterns like roots of a tree.

“What is all this?” Kyle asked, hand moving over the marks. So many cuts by his collarbone, in all various colors, shifting at the edge of his vision like mosquitoes buzzing around his face. His torso was all that bright color, shifting and shimmering as he breathed, the light hitting him different ways. The claws on his stomach, not from the other day but from the fight with the Coon, and large lacerations under that from when his guts spilled out over Kyle’s floor.

“Kenny, what is this?” Kyle asked again, the marks disappearing the moment he looked back up at his face. As if nothing happened. As if they didn’t exist.

“You’re smart, Kyle, put it all together,” The boy said, eyes closed.

“You heal yourself but they don’t _leave_?” Kyle couldn’t comprehend this. “You still walk around- can you feel them? Do they hurt?”

“Not exactly,” Kenny opened his eyes, even though he still avoided Kyle’s gaze. “Sometimes they…itch? I guess? I get uncomfortable sometimes, but they don’t hurt. I’m not in pain or anything. And it’s not…often, but it happens.”

Kenny stepped out of the light, leaving Kyle reaching for him. The boy gaped, then walked after him, purpose in his pace.

“Are you okay?” He asked, and his horrified tone at least stopped Kenny, who turned with a smile that was entirely genuine.

“Yes,” He said, gratefully. There was way too much relief in his eyes for Kyle’s liking.

He reached up, cupping Kenny’s face just as Mysterion had hours previous. Kenny’s eyes softened, and he leaned against the touch with a soft sigh.

“I thought you’d be freaked out,” Kenny admitted, a bit of self-deprecation in his voice.

“Oh, I’m…not okay with it,” Kyle smoothed back his hair and pulled Kenny back towards the light. “But I think it’s for different reasons than you mean. Holy fucking shit, Kenneth, how many times have you been this hurt?”

“Kyle Broflovski,” Kenny said instead, utterly glowing. “I seriously love you.” Kyle shot him a look and he laughed. “Come on. You find out some magical bullshit has me covered head-to-toe in marks and you’re more concerned over me being hurt.”

“Yes?” Kyle said, feeling that if one of them was out of touch with reality it certainly wasn’t himself. “I think that’s a proper fuckin’ response. I-” His voice died.

Holes. Small ones, _bullet holes_ , peppering Kenny’s smiling face. Stripes of old wounds and punctures, fucking bullet holes through his head. If Kyle were the type, he’d scream.

“ _Kenny_ ,” he said, weakly, reaching up to touch the smooth skin. “Do not tell me someone has…Kenny, there’s…holes…”

“I’ve been shot, Kyle,” Kenny said, catching his hand and pressing it to his lips. His whole body was cringing, marks fuzzing around Kyle’s vision. “Lots of times. I’m not always the best at dodging, y’know?”

Someone had shot his boyfriend. Multiple times. This couldn’t be happening. The amount of rage Kyle felt wasn’t something he’d ever be able to articulate. Instead, he grabbed Kenny’s chin, green eyes filled with fire.

“Who. The _fuck _,” Kyle spoke slowly, hands shaking. “Shot you?”__

__“Not like I got names and numbers, Ky,” Kenny was saying, but Kyle noticed something else._ _

__“Some of these are older, aren’t they?” He demanded, fear turning his heart into something ice cold and painful. He could see some that were…dark. Barely on the edge of his vision. “How old are some of these?” He hadn’t been Mysterion that long. Not professionally._ _

__Kenny’s mouth opened and shut, face paling._ _

__“Kenny, how old?!” Kyle demanded, brushing back his hair, and Kenny cracked._ _

__“There’s some that are from when I was a kid,” He rushed the sentence out, like he was trying to get his nerve. “Back when you lived in South Park.”_ _

__“Bullets?” Kyle asked, voice raising in pitch in horror, and Kenny winced._ _

__“Ye-es?” He cringed as he drew the word out._ _

__“Wh- who- why?” What the fuck. Who shot a nine year old? Kyle was shaking, trailing his hands down his jawline, his neck, anywhere he could touch. Needing to reassure himself. “How are you still _alive_?”_ _

__“I can’t die!” Kenny finally burst out, stepping away. He was shaking himself at this point, arms crossed. “I can’t. No matter what. Crushing, decapitation, blowing my brains out, I still come back! I come back and I get something to remember it by. So I know it happened, so I know I’m not crazy, everything I’ve ever gotten hurt or died from is here, it’s on me, and I just heal myself back up.”_ _

__Kyle was gulping down air like a drowning man. “You’re kidding,” He breathed, and those were the wrong words. Wrong. Words._ _

__“Do you think I’m kidding?” Kenny shouted, whirling, expression twisting into something that was definitely not Kenny. “Does it look like I’m kidding? Look at it! Look at me! I’m not like the others, given abilities to move air or rocks or shoot lasers, or just someone dressed in a costume with knives attached to them, I’m not like them, I’m not like any of them and I never have been, _I don’t fucking know what I am_!”_ _

__Kyle opened his arms, immediately, and Kenny met him halfway. He broke._ _

__Kyle had never, not once in his life, seen Kenny cry. Not when Kyle moved away, not when Karen left for school, not even when he thought he was dying. But tonight he sobbed, angrily clawing at Kyle’s shirt._ _

__Kyle let him, holding him as tightly as he could, hoping somehow he could project how much he hurt on his behalf. How much he wanted to fix it. The weight of Kenny’s words terrified him._ _

__“Sometimes the dumbest, weirdest shit happens and I can’t stop it,” Kenny cried against his shoulder. “Like the world wants me off, it knows I’m fucked up somehow and it’s trying to get rid of me. It hurts, it hurts so much, every times, and I can’t stop it and I can’t die for real because I tried, I’ve tried and I’ve tried and I can’t go. I come back and no one remembers seeing it. Nobody.”_ _

__Kyle ran a hand through his hair, trying to steady his fingers. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, voice little more than a croak. “I would’ve tried to help you.”_ _

__“You don’t remember either,” He replied, weakly. “I’ve died in front of you in grade school. You didn’t…didn’t flinch.”_ _

__Kyle might’ve scratched Kenny with how frantic his hug became. “Oh my god.”_ _

__“It’s not your fault,” Kenny was slowly becoming more coherent, shaking but his crying subsiding. “I know it’s not. I don’t know why it happens, I don’t know. No one ever notices.”_ _

__“You didn’t really try to kill yourself, did you?” Kyle knew the answer already before Kenny admitted it._ _

__“Lots of times,” He whispered. “So many times. I was a desperate kid, I wanted out. I wanted this over. Sometimes I just…just wanted everything to be quiet for a while.”_ _

__“ _Kenny_ ,” Kyle couldn’t even put a word to the emotion he felt. Devastated, maybe._ _

__“Not for a long time and it hasn’t happened once since I met you again,” Kenny was stepping back into the role he always did, reassuring Kyle things were okay. They were not._ _

__“Don’t,” Kyle shushed him, not wanting to follow that line of thought. Not…not tonight. That was a conversation for later. But definitely a conversation. “Ken, haven’t you told anyone about this?”_ _

__“No one believes me when I do,” The taller boy admitted, finally moving back. He wiped his face, inefficiently as he stared at Kyle. Waiting._ _

__“I do,” He said, firmly, feeling just about an inch from crying himself. “I fucking do. I wondered how you always patched yourself back together-”_ _

__“Kyle, I might not be human,” The boy blurted, as if he had been thinking about this for a while. “Like at all. This isn’t normal.”_ _

__“No, it’s really not,” Kyle pulled some tissues from his backpack sitting on the desk and Kenny took them gratefully. “But I believe you. I just…Kenny, I’m so sorry.”_ _

__Wrong words again, but for a different reason. Kenny tried to mask the fact more tears spilled by rolling his eyes and smiling. “You don’t have to be _sorry_ ,” He said, blinking. “It’s not your fault.”_ _

__“I’m sorry I didn’t know before,” Kyle staunchly disagreed. “I’m sorry I didn’t remember. And I’m sorry you’ve been going through this by yourself.”_ _

__Kenny didn’t even try to hide these tears, and Kyle pulled him back into his arms. Kenny calmed down quicker, wrapping himself around Kyle like his life was tied to him._ _

__Kyle was very, very glad he couldn’t see anything on his skin currently. He forced Kenny into bed, covering the boy in blankets and surrounding him in his arms. Kenny nuzzled against his neck and just breathed, trying to get back to normal, probable years of hurt and anger and pain finally being let go._ _

__Kyle didn’t ask anymore questions. He just soothed his boyfriend, pressing kisses to his hair and murmuring reassurances, promises. And thought to himself._ _

__He had a new priority to track down now. No one knew what made superhumans, the few that truly had powers were feared beyond all else. He had to do some investigation._ _

__He had to do something. The fact that Kenny had to…he was killed, he’d died, who knows how many times? When they were children, even…how did Kyle not remember? He was going to have a mental breakdown of his own if he didn’t find some answers. Some results._ _

__But tomorrow. Not tonight._ _

__Kyle stared over the top of Kenny’s head at the window, and swore to himself that if someone was behind this, they’d regret it._ _


	4. Punctured

Kyle came home early, laden with papers and a general distaste for people. The papers got thrown on the desk in the bedroom, Kyle cussing out everyone he could think of. Some people were horrible, awful human beings. He’d have Kenny look over the list when he came home and listen to Kyle bitch.

He wished Kenny would be home sometimes when he came back. Kenny worked in the daytime and went out as Mysterion earlier and earlier the past few months. He changed clothes, fussed over what he had in the pantry before deciding on just heating up some soup. Maybe he’d make some bread as a side for dinner tonight, he could start the dough. Kenny could heat up whatever he wanted when he came home, or maybe he’d be back at a normal time and be able to eat food the same time as Kyle for once.

He sat at the table, considering the case he’d come from observing. Another unpunished homicide, and Mysterion was definitely going to go after this one. Kyle exhaled, slowly. These all had to be part of the same group, they had to have someone they were partnered with if they were all walking away like this.

Sometimes he wondered how much danger he himself was in. He never mentioned this to Kenny, of course. If he heard Kyle was suspecting he might be in more danger than he anticipated he’d be on his ass about the courts forever. And Kyle would not give this up, he was enjoying this. Besides, it made him feel a bit useful, to contribute to Kenny’s work in some way. He was out there all alone, he had enough to deal with.

Particularly after what he’d admitted to this week. What do you say to your significant other once they told you that they’d died multiple times, killed themselves countless times, had magical bullshit scars that sometimes showed up and sometimes didn’t. How do you talk about it? How do you even begin to process it?

What had Kenny? What caused this? This had to be related to the powers that sprouted up in certain people. Kenny mostly fought with his own brute strength, trying to outwit and outfight everything on the streets, but this was…unnatural. Supreme healing, regeneration, and Kyle could find no record of any other hero, or villain, with those types of powers. Kenny was alone.

Kyle covered his face with his hands, frustrated.

How was the world supposed to go back to normal? After your partner told you they’d killed themselves multiple times, implying it was just in order to escape their reality for a little while? After you spent a night tracing every mark on their body, trying to commit them to memory in case you forgot, again, pleading and begging with God to please, please just let you remember this one.

Well, Kyle remembered.

But he was still no closer to figuring out Kenny’s problems.

Something crashed to the ground in their bedroom, and Kyle jerked to half-stand.

That was not Mysterion. Kenny was silent, and loved sneaking up on him and trying to scare the shit out of his boyfriend. Particularly lately, when Mysterion seemed to have a more flirtatious side around the Jewish boy.

Kyle quietly stood, careful not to make his chair push backwards and make a sound. He slid a knife out of the block on the counter, silently creeping forward to check. It might just be another damn bird that got into the apartment, but he swore he didn’t leave the window up.

The window was up.

Also, a bloody mess of a man was panting on the ground, hood thrown back and mask torn off. He’d knocked over the desk somehow, he’d fallen over it, streaking blood over the white surface and scattering Kyle’s papers and coating them in red.

“Kenny!” Kyle sprinted, having the wits to toss the knife on the chest of drawers before flying forwards.

He’d done this before.

Not long after they started dating, Kyle had found himself with a lapful of broken, bleeding Mysterion. He’d crawled over to him at first, Kyle had been startled enough to stand still, wondering if he should attack, and Kenny had pulled back the mask.

The horror, shock, and pain he’d felt was indescribable.

He’d known Kenny. He grew up with Kenny, the boy would have been a major piece of his life and identity even if he never fell in love with him. He’d stayed with him, terrified and confused as Kenny gasped for air in his lap, intestines spilling out of his stomach like they’d been forcibly expelled.

He couldn’t remember a lot about it. Just the feelings. And the fact that he never called emergency services.

He supposed he knew why, now.

It had killed him inside, even if he didn’t remember the whole thing. He’d started sleeping in the same bed as him around that time, just so he could make sure he was alright. Kenny had assured him everything was fine and had treated his confusion with a gentleness that Kyle hadn’t understood at the time.

That moment was very much in the forefront of his mind as he flew to Kenny’s side, the vigilante gasping for air and reaching for Kyle best he could.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, ‘m sorry,” Kenny was rambling, his voice wrong, neither Mysterion or Kenny, gargling and slurred. “Ky, sorry,”

Kyle shushed him, grasping his shoulder and trying to figure out what was wrong without moving him. “Don’t be sorry, Ken, please,” He cupped his chin, Kenny’s blood-streaked face not showing any signs of damage.

“Stab,” Kenny managed, and Kyle realized that under the deep red stain of his uniform, he’d been punctured several times.

“What can I do?” Kyle asked immediately, face pale but voice never wavering. Kenny grinned, weakly, blood staining his teeth, even.

“I’m gonna die,” He admitted, eyes wild and frightened. “Gonna die, I’ll be back. You won’t remember. It’ll be okay.”

Kyle exhaled like his lungs decided to give up on air altogether.

“God, not again, Kenny,” He said, moving close again. Letting him rest his head on his lap, Kenny’s shallow breaths causing twitches of pain.

“Sorry,” He said again, clutching at one of the wounds. “Wanted to come home.”

Fuck. Fuck everything, fuck this curse on him.

“Good,” Kyle said, brushing back his hair gently, watching Kenny melt even as he struggled to hold onto life. “Always come home, if you can. I’ll be here.”

“Heh.” Kenny’s lips trembled. “I’m sorry, Ky.”

“Stop apologizing,” Kyle said, throat constricting. Goddamn it all. “Never apologize for this.”

“It bothers you,” Kenny pointed out, gritting his teeth.

“Of course it does, you fuckwit,” Kyle could see one of those punctures slightly. It was just pooling with blood, he’d lost so much already. And who knows how far he’d traveled in order to die at home. “You’re bleeding out on the floor! You’ve been fucking _stabbed_ you complete moron!”

Kenny was trying to laugh, making a weak, pained sound instead as his chest shook. “Ah-” He said, biting off the rest.

He was going to die. He was really going to die.

“What can I do?” Kyle asked again, a bit more frantically.

“Just stay here,” He pleaded, quieter and quieter. “Don’t leave.”

“I won’t,” Kyle said, noting the grey pallor to his skin. Kenny was clinging hard to life. He’d come back, Kyle would forget, or his memory of it would get fuzzy and disjointed. It wasn’t fair.

“Tell me what happened when you’re back,” Kyle demanded suddenly, caressing his cheek. His heart ached. “If I don’t remember. Don’t you dare let me forget this.”

“Ky-” Kenny’s voice was barely audible now, breaking his heart. 

“I want to remember, I want to know what hurts you,” Kyle ran his thumb over his cheekbone, dim blue eyes watering underneath him. “So promise you’ll tell me. And then let go. I’ll be here.”

Lethargic tears spilled over Kenny’s cheeks, and he made no reply. He seemed to be struggling to breathe at the moment, staring up at Kyle with tired eyes.

Kyle was angry, beyond angry. Whatever had a hold of him had no right to put a claim on him this way. Keep him in pain and agony and shove him into impossible situations where he had no choice but to die.

Kenny began choking.

It didn’t matter if he came back. Kyle was in a panic, physically biting his lips to keep from crying out in terror or rage. He was suffering, slowly, eyes wide and frightened. It still hurt. He still suffered. 

Kyle pressed his hand against his chest.

The world went blue.

Kenny’s scars lit up under his fingers, somehow through his clothes, three deep puncture wounds burning hot and bright on his chest. Kyle froze, palm spread over the ‘M’ on his chest. His hand felt hot, burning hot, like he’d touched a stove. And yet he kept his hand where it was, something screaming in the back of his mind not to move. To wait.

His hand hurt. It twitched uncomfortably, blood soaking his skin and coating his fingernails. Kenny’s scars were on fire.

“Kyle?!” He heard someone say, far away.

Kenny didn’t deserve this. And Kyle would be damned if he was going to let it continue. He’d reunited with his old friend and he’d loved Kenny, he loved Kenny and whoever this was would not be allowed to mess with Kenny’s fate any longer.

_I’ll take him back,_ something in the back of his mind snapped, rising like an enraged beast awoken too early. Kyle was protective at any rate, and a spark of possessiveness licked into flames at his chest. _Who gave you the right?_

With every inch of hatred in his heart, he grabbed for Kenny and _pulled_.

\--

Kyle woke up snuggled in their blankets, curled up on the bed. He stretched, tiredly, blinking awake. It was still dark, it wasn’t time to be up.

Was Kenny home? Kyle sat up slightly, noting that he wasn’t even under the main comforter, just the blankets. Weird.

A check of the clock revealed it to be two in the morning. So Kenny might still be out. Only he was starting to wake up now, and he genuinely couldn’t remember going to bed. He was going to make dinner, did he ever make dinner?

Kyle rubbed his face, taking another look around the room. Something was off. His detail-obsessed mind whirled, taking another look. The desk looked off-kilter. Kyle narrowed his eyes. Maybe Kenny was home, had come in through the window and forgotten to fix the desk afterwards.

Something itched at his mind uncomfortably. Something was wrong.

He threw the blankets off, listening. He heard nothing. He stood slowly, carefully, and reached for the knife on the dresser.

Wait, what the fuck?

Kyle paused, hand outstretched stupidly and hovering over the chest of drawers. Why was a fucking knife in their bedroom? Why did he know there was a fucking knife in the bedroom? This was from the kitchen, why was there a motherfucking knife on their fucking dresser?!

Kyle flew into the next room, suddenly worried. Too many things weren’t adding up, and he was ready to fight whatever the hell was causing this.

Kenny was sitting at the table, Kyle’s papers before him and he actually looked like he was drinking Kyle’s tea. He wasn’t usually one for hot tea, even if it were chilly out.

He looked up when Kyle flew in, red hair even messier than normal and an alarmed look on his face.

“Hey, Kyle,” Kenny said, with all the enthusiasm of greeting a classmate at a funeral. He was watching Kyle carefully, as if afraid he would blow up. It was so uncharacteristic a greeting that it caught him off guard.

“What happened?” Kyle asked immediately, voice sharp. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong with you, babe?” Kenny’s grin was back, tilted and wrong. “Nightmares?”

Kyle rounded the table, and for a minute Kenny looked alarmed, like he thought Kyle was going to tackle him out of his seat. He briefly considered it, for being the typical ass and ignoring whatever catastrophe that had to be happening behind the scenes.

He grabbed Kenny by the shoulders, leaning into his space.

“What happened?” He asked again, thumbs brushing over his shoulders. “Are you hurt? Did something happen to someone? You better not brush me off, I’ll kick your ass.”

Kenny’s expression twisted and he looked like he was trying not to smile. “I’m alright, Kyle. I’m fine. I promise.”

Some of the terror eased, but there was still something wrong. Kyle’s expression never changed, hands smoothing over his shoulders.

Kenny looked at him, something odd across his face. Something grim, analytical. Something more typical under a mask. His blue eyes watched, and Kyle could almost see him making a decision.

“Kyle,” Kenny said quietly, Mysterion pouring into the tone. “There’s some things I need to tell you.”

Kyle’s heart jumped in fear. He pulled over a chair and sat down, so close his legs brushed Kenny’s. His eyes were sparking, body tensed. “So talk.”

“I died,” Kenny said, quietly. “Earlier today. You were there.”

Kyle withdrew slightly, trying to filter through his memories. “No. Again, Kenny? Not…what happened? Are you okay?” Goddamn he asked that like fifty times already.

Kenny huffed a slight laugh, not like his normal bursting giggles, running a hand through his own hair. “I’m fine, now. I think I scared you.”

“Undoubtedly,” Kyle said, a bit harshly. He’d died? Again? He couldn’t…couldn’t sum up the memory at all. “Fucking shit, Kenneth.”

Kenny was quiet. He traced the wood layers on their table, brushing a few crumbs off onto the floor.

“Don’t do that,” Kyle found himself saying despite the situation. “I’ll make you sweep.”

There, Kenny smiled. He still wasn’t looking at Kyle. Everything was quiet, the heavy silence pressing on Kyle.

Again, what can you say? Could he ask, did he have the right? He wanted to, wanted to know how and what happened and if he’d done anything to help. Would he make things worse for Kenny by asking? Did he make things worse by not asking? Kyle closed his eyes, taking a breath.

“What exactly happened?” He decided to ask, voice firm.

“It was my fault,” Kenny’s eyes narrowed. “I underestimated these guys. They were just on a little jaunt of robbery and the night was slow, thought I’d stop them for kicks.”

Kyle never got detailed accounts. His heart pounded. What did Kenny encounter daily? Kyle wasn’t privy to that.

“They caught you off guard?” He gently prodded, and Kenny sighed.

“I was stupid, I was taunting them, and they weren’t just robbers, they had their own powers. One still liked to use knives, though. He got me about three or four times before I realized what happened. I took them down, but it was bad,” Kenny winced. “I barely made it back home.”

Kyle swallowed. He could hear the ceiling fan in their room with how silent it was.

“I don’t like dying on the streets,” Kenny muttered, rubbing his eyes. “I know it’s dumb-”

“It is not dumb, Kenny, stop that,” Kyle corrected, frustrated with his amount of self-deprecation. “Fuck. Did I help you?”

“Of course you did,” There was something there, something resentful. Kyle looked at him oddly. Kenny grit his teeth, looking harried. “You don’t remember anything of it, do you?”

Ah. So that must be what he was frustrated about. Kyle was quiet. He watched the table, silent, letting it speak for him.

Kenny dragged a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know why I don’t remember,” Kyle said, resting his chin on his hands. “I can recall about what time it might’ve been, but I can’t remember a damn thing.”

“No,” Kenny interrupted him, slamming a hand on the table. Kyle looked up, surprised. “That’s not your fault.”

Funny. He could have swore there was some anger from Kenny over the ordeal, that night. Some kind of bitterness. Kyle raised an eyebrow, but Kenny interrupted him before he could speak.

“You asked me to tell you,” He said, and for a moment his voice seemed his own. Less frustrated and angry, less hateful towards himself. “You stayed with me.”

Kyle cursed himself out for forgetting. “Of course I would,” He murmured. “I can’t imagine…I must’ve been pissed.”

“Yeah,” Kenny said slowly, carefully. Kyle shot him another look, curious. Kenny seemed to war with himself.

“Have I told you lately how much I love you?” He finally said, rubbing his face. “You’re…something incredible, Kyle.”

Kyle exhaled. He nudged Kenny with his foot, tilting his head to try and catch his eye. “I love you too,” He said carefully, in case Kenny needed to hear it.

Kenny was warring with himself for certain, but finally he broke.

“Will you do something for me, Kyle?” This was definitely the Mysterion part of Kenny, sharp and demanding despite the polite words. He held out his hand, confusing Kyle greatly. “Try to look at my scars again.”

“What?” This seemed like such an abrupt switch that it felt like getting whiplash. “You going to take off your shirt or what?”

Normally, Kenny would have an excellent comeback for that kind of thing, to the point of Kyle wanting to take back the words immediately, but he said nothing of the sort. He pulled up the sleeve of his sweater, to his elbow.

“That’ll be enough, just take my hand,” Kenny said, and Kyle was becoming extremely uneasy. Kenny did not give him demands.

Regardless, he took his hand. Kenny had long palms and fingers, to the point of looking noticeably odd, and his skin was unmarred and pretty all the way to his elbow.

It was a lie, of course. Kyle had seen that a few nights previously.

Kenny let him turn his hand around, trying to catch some of the light just the right way or whatever happened to see those blueish-silvery lights back in their bedroom. He saw nothing.

“It’s like they aren’t even here,” He muttered, and he saw Kenny clench his jaw. He tried to take back his hand but Kyle didn’t let him, gripping his wrist tightly.

Kenny’s eyes flit back up, tired and old and angry.

“Ken,” He said, caught off-guard, and the blond took a breath and averted his gaze.

“I don’t know what to wish for anymore,” He muttered, foot tapping on the floor like he was feeling antsy. “I just fucking don’t, Kyle.”

He wasn’t sure what was happening. “Did I say something wrong when you-”

“This has nothing to do with you,” Kenny snapped, really taking Kyle aback. “This is me. All of this is just me.”

“Cut that shit out,” Kyle snapped right back, ready to go toe to toe with his bad attitude if he wanted. “This isn’t your fault in the fucking least.”

“You don’t know a damn thing,” Kenny said, teeth grit. “You have no goddamned idea.”

“That’s not fair,” Kyle said, bewildered at where this was coming from. “Of course I can’t know. I can’t fucking remember, and I have no curse of my own-”

Kenny stood, quickly, chair falling back.

“And where the fuck are _you_ going?” Kyle asked, standing as Kenny walked to his coat.

“I just want some quiet for a while, maybe,” Kenny said, throwing the jacket over his shoulders and reaching for the door. “You-”

He didn’t get any farther.

Kyle did one of those stunt-double things across the hood of a car, only he wasn’t a stunt double he was a court reporter hoping to go into law, and it wasn’t a car it was a table and looked far less cool over a table and performed by a law student.

He slammed a hand against the wall in front of Kenny, bracing himself against the door.

He remembered the wording Kenny had used, when he said he’d killed himself for quiet.

Kenny froze, staring, between Kyle and the door. His look was incredulous, and even if he didn’t look the least bit frightened, Kyle recalled the tales about the last boyfriend he’d had.

“I’m not blocking your way,” Kyle spoke low, dangerously, slowly. “But you said-”

“Get out of my way, Kyle,” Kenny said just as slowly, all Mysterion. He didn’t back down. “Don’t escalate this.”

“You gonna shove me against a wall again?” Kyle bit, eyes flashing. “I’m trying to-”

“Get out of my way-”

“-not going to kill yourself again-”

That caught Kenny’s attention, and finally he was listening. He looked surprised, physically took the moment to look surprised, and Kyle flushed.

“It’s what you said night before last,” He said sharply, feeling embarrassed now with Kenny looking at him like that. “About wanting to shut the world out for some quiet.”

Realization sparked on Kenny’s face, and slowly, he started to smile.

He reached for Kyle, who opened his arms for a very snuggly hug, the tension and anger bleeding out of Kenny immediately.

“No, babe,” Kenny sounded better in the flip of a switch, leaning heavily on Kyle. “I wasn’t going to.”

Kyle took a shuddery breath, trying not to show how much that had freaked him out. “Good,” He said, hand rubbing his back soothingly. “That scared the shit out of me, Ken.”

“You didn’t mention it again,” Kenny muttered, and Kyle made an incredulous noise.

“I didn’t know if you’d want to talk about it,” He pointed out, utterly bewildered now.

“I don’t,” Kenny said, drawing back to look at his boyfriend. “But I wondered if that bothered you.”

“Of course it did, I said it did,” Kyle said, still utterly confused.

“I mean more than just…disturbing to hear,” Kenny tried to explain, looking awkward himself. “You take a lot of things on yourself. You don’t need to carry my stuff on your shoulders, Kyle. You really don’t. Please remember that.”

“Yeah,” Kyle said slowly, trying to catch up with his thoughts. “You sound disjointed, Ken. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Kenny swallowed. “It’s been a bad day,” He said with a weak sort of grin, and Kyle sighed. Alright, that at least made sense.

He looked him over, as if to reassure himself he was alright. He touched his cheek, gently.

“Did you eat?” He asked, pressing his lips together when Kenny shook his head. “Alright. Food, then you’re going to bed. You’re worrying me.”

“Aw, don’t worry, mom,” Kenny’s humor was back, sparking in his eyes. “I don’t need you fussing too much.”

“Don’t you dare refer to me as your mom,” Kyle playfully swatted at him, moving into the kitchen.

“I could refer to you as my-”

“NOPE,” Kyle interrupted that quickly, which said something about how well he knew his boyfriend at this point. Kenny laughed, shucking off his coat. “Get your ass over here, you’re helping me.”

Kenny did, though he spent the time watching more than anything, watching Kyle survey the bread he’d left out and place in the oven. He was quiet, not saying anything unless Kyle spoke first.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” Kyle said, somehow having ended up watching tv with Kenny sprawled across his lap. The boy nuzzled against his thigh and Kyle quickly dissuaded that behavior.

“I’m doing much better,” He said sweetly, and Kyle ruffled his hair.

“You’re quiet,” He pointed out gently, and Kenny looked at him a moment before smiling.

“I just love you, is all,” He said softly. “You continue to surprise me, Ky.”

Odd. He supposed he was referring to the way Kyle handled his death. In reality, he didn’t like this whole situation. It was still vast and empty and unsolved, nothing accomplished, Kenny still died and struggled to tell Kyle and didn’t want to talk but also did. It was confusing and frustrating.

“I love you, Ken,” Kyle brushed back his hair from his face and Kenny closed his eyes. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

Kenny snorted, opening his eyes to look back up at him, something bitter in his eyes. “Of course.”


	5. Broken

Chaos. Literal Chaos, the persona. People were screaming, lackeys were everywhere, police were out, everyone was stampeding and running down below. 

Kyle was caught in the newspaper office, having been filing through hard copies of obituaries, looking for someone Kenny was fairly certain had faked his death for nefarious reasons. Someone who might have started up with the Powers Resistance now that some ‘heroes’ were rising up against the everyfolk. Kyle hadn’t heard anything about the old villains return until everything flew into Chaos. 

Professor Chaos was an old enemy of Mysterion’s. Why was he back? And in full force? Kyle looked out the window down below, watching the terror as the city’s old villain returned with a bang. 

Mysterion’s ex-arch enemy. What did this mean for Kenny? Kyle kept searching, but never saw him or Chaos. 

Was that a good thing or a bad thing? His coworkers talked about evacuations, Kyle scrolled through his phone for news. Mysterion would absolutely show up for Chaos. Kenny had to know by now. 

Kyle didn’t know Kenny was Mysterion back then. He’d just started taking big jobs not long before he crawled into his lap to die. Chaos disappeared probably a month or two after they started dating, was off the screen before he knew his alter ego. Kenny never said anything about him as a person and Kyle didnt know where they stood on a personal level. 

It was worrying him. If Kenny had forced him off the scene, he might be ready for revenge. 

There. A mention of a cloaked hero off sixth. If Kenny was headed to the most turmoil, he’d be a street down from where Kyle was now. 

Kyle didn’t say a word. He just walked, out of the room and down the hall. He threw the door to the stairwell open and flew down the steps, zipping up his jacket as he went floor by floor back downstairs. 

Kenny would take the alleys. He’d be there quickly, he would want to meet Chaos, who the media was frantically searching for but no one knew where was. 

He was not in as good shape as he had been in school. He was breathing harder by the time he finally got to the ground level, but didn’t pause before pushing the side exit open and stepping out into the sunlight. 

Sirens, shrieks, people everywhere. Emergency cars and car alarms sounded as Kyle exited into the alleyway. He was determined to find Kenny. This was something he had to witness, had to watch, had to make sure Chaos didn’t straight up kill the boy. 

Kenny hadn’t been acting right since he last time he died, he’d been distant and nervous and Kyle had never noticed before. He wasn’t leaving him alone again. Never again. 

Kyle jogged the rest of the way, listening. You could hear everything happening just on the other side of the buildings. Kyle took a lesser street, where some people milled around and tried to get into buildings and offered medical help to people. 

He skirted them all, glaring against the sun to try and catch a glimpse of anything. Sunlight wasn’t Mysterion’s forte. But he’d be out. He knew he’d be out. 

Kyle slowed, catching his breath, stopping entirely next to an ambulance. He’d be out. Cloaked hero, the street ahead was sixth. Why wasn’t he seeing anything? 

“Y-y-y-you looking for sssssomething?” A voice piped up, making Kyle glance over. 

A boy about his own age was casually sprawled on the steps to an apartment, a pair of crutches next to him. He had brown hair, off-kilter brown eyes, and a nice enough smile. The only smile. Literally the only non-medical personnel around who wasn’t panicking. 

“...I heard Mysterion was spotted,” Kyle went for the most truth he could. He needed information. “Do you know where?” 

“Ohh y-y-y-yeah,” The boy looked serious, caramel eyes wide. “He went down the street. Down b-by the...” The boy struggled and Kyle bit his tongue. Hard. Kenny had to be nearby, ready to face his enemy alone. “Library.” 

“Thank you,” Kyle said, heart pounding in his ears. He had to go. “Stay safe.” 

“Where y-you off to?” The boy asked, alarmed. “Hey!”

Kyle ignored him, heading to the next alley and hooking left, cutting through a small garden to get to the library. Of course Kenny led the villain away from the people. He wouldn’t want anyone to be hurt. Jimmy and the others would be fine where they were, Kenny did his job well. 

Kyle scaled a chain link fence, dropping to the other side and slowing to catch his breath. The library was surrounded by lush landscape and seemed entirely abandoned. The parking lot was empty and not a soul walked in or out of the large wooden doors. 

Kyle walked under the shaded front of the building, listening. He could hear nothing, only the fighting in the distance. Sunlight glinted off the second story window mosaic and nothing stirred. Everything was harsh, sunlit colors, all until the world shattered into blue. 

Kyle staggered, feeling a pull at his brain. Familiarity, anger, worry, frustration. Love, waves of it, washing over him like he was caught on the beach, forced down by the weight of rush after rush of feeling and affection. 

“Kenny?” Kyle mostly said to himself, feeling nauseated by the onslaught. Desire, gratitude, guilt, joy. Wave upon wave crashed on him, harsher and harsher as he stumbled against one of the concrete pillars outside the library. Awe, exhaustion, pride, fear. He was going to throw up. 

Another sharp pull, to his right, and Kyle’s dizzy mind forced him to turn on instinct. He stared at nothing, confusion settling right before Mysterion swept into view from around the corner. 

He didn’t look surprised to see Kyle, but he definitely looked pissed. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Mysterion snarled, the fear part coming back in rushing waves. It hurt. “You’re going to get yourself killed!”

He could see the scars, on the lower half of his face that was the only skin exposed to light. Shimmering blue just under his vision. Long marks and scars, hints of rope burns further down his neck. 

Kyle tried to think. Fear and frustration smacked against his brain with intensity. 

“What are you doing?” He forced himself to say, words a little slurred. “Is Chaos back?” 

“Yes he’s back and you need to go home,” Mysterion grabbed Kyle’s elbow and dragged him away from the building, looking around. Nervousness. The feelings were fading, though, and so was the blue. 

Was this a Chaos thing? Forcing emotions that felt foreign onto him? Kyle scrambled to think. 

“You can’t fight everything by yourself,” Kyle found himself saying, feeling a jolt of surprise. “I won’t let you.”

Mysterion sputtered slightly before finding his words again. 

“You can’t fight Chaos for me, Kyle,” He said incredulously. 

“Maybe not,” Kyle refused to outright say he couldn’t do something, “But if you get hurt, I’m not letting you face this alone.” 

Something like static, white noise, filled all the empty spaces of Kyle’s soul, and then Mysterion grabbed his shirt front. 

Pride, exasperation, embarrassment, love. Mysterion kissed Kyle on the mouth, licking into it as he more or less dipped him slightly backwards. Kyle was caught entirely off-guard, more or less counting on the vigilante for balance as his mind spun. Joy, irritation, amazement, want. 

He was feeling Kenny. Kyle realized he was understanding what Kenny was feeling, startled enough to break one of the best kisses he’d ever been given. Mysterion gulped for air against his lips, nuzzled kisses onto his cheeks and chin like he couldn’t get enough of him. 

“Wait,” This was all...so very confusing. “What....I just...” 

Was this a power of Kenny’s, like the regeneration? Was he projecting his feelings onto Kyle? Mysterion had his arms around his waist now, emotions buzzing just under the surface and harder to feel. 

“What’s wrong?” Mysterion murmured, suddenly all concern. 

Another shock and the fading blue became bright and saturated. Kyle inhaled, slowly. People running down the street where Chaos’ lackeys were, the street where the miniature hospital was set up-

A shock, a jolt, a caped figure and another one, smaller, trotting alongside the levitating being. Other side of the building, walking around. 

“You’ve got company,” Kyle said, pushing the vigilante away. It was like he could see it physically, but not with his eyes. Like the images were burning into his brain, shades of blue and movement without moving. 

Mysterion looked around, back to his hero persona, and Kyle motioned to the side of the building, head pounding. 

“Two. Probably Chaos, and a shorter lackey next to him.”

Mysterion’s breath left him in a rush. He grabbed Kyle again, by the shoulders, and shook him. 

“You have to go home,” Mysterion told him seriously. “He’s not a safe person to be around. He’s unstable. He’s either slightly benevolent or batshit crazy and it’s never a safe bet which one it is.”

“I’m not leaving,” Kyle told him, coolly. He brought his arms up between Kenny’s arms to knock them aside. “I’m a little sick of being pushed out of the way, to be honest. I’m staying.” 

Mysterion growled, but moved away, whirling around to see the two standing in plain view. 

The blond had a metal frame around his face that resembled a crown, a green uniform reinforced with Kevlar, a long flowing cape that passed his feet in length, bare arms and a sneering face. He was levitating, slightly off the ground, and gracefully touched the ground with his boots the moment Mysterion saw him. 

Kyle was struck by his eyes, one pale blue and the other was a mismatch of colors and the iris almost misshapen, an ugly scar over the skin around it. 

Mysterion was silent, a low growl Kyle’s only indication that he saw the duo. The smaller one was red headed, far brighter than Kyle’s auburn, ringlets instead of frizzy curls, and an intense look of dislike on his face. 

“Mysterion,” Professor Chaos said, without taking his eyes off him. 

“Chaos,” Mysterion’s voice was laced with hate. The villain’s face twitched. 

The villain’s eyes flit from the vigilante to his shadow, looking Kyle up and down. 

“Working with sidekicks now?” The Professor asked, and Kyle spoke calmly. 

“I’m a reporter,” he saw Mysterion tense when he heard Kyle speak. “I’m covering your return, now that we know it isn’t just a rumor.” He was a court reporter, but the villain didn’t have to know that. 

Chaos smiled, mockingly, blue eyes chilling. This wasn’t one of his benevolent days. 

“That’s awful nice,” His voice was sickly sweet. “I’ve no problem with reporters, you’ll be alright. Move away from Mysterion, please.” 

Kyle didn’t move. 

“Why are you back?” He demanded, blue starting to flood back into his vision. A weird flash of light sparked in his vision momentarily and he blinked, trying not to get distracted. “You left the town for years. Why now?” 

“No questions,” The boy next to Chaos lifted his chin. “You heard the Professor. Move aside.” 

Kyle didn’t move. 

“Kyle,” Mysterion’s voice was softer. “Go.” 

Bright blue flooded his eyes. Images burned, another flash of light. Directed next to him, energy. Light. 

Chaos raised his hand. 

Something flooded him, something angry. Powerful. Energy. _He’s mine and you can’t hurt him._

Kyle felt solid, feet connected to the earth, and lifted his own hand. 

Lightning, energy hit a smooth surface. It buzzed against the blue shield, humming vibrations Kyle could feel even with the raised barrier a foot away. 

The light stopped, Kyle could feel the barrier weakening around the corners, pulling at his mind and making his eyes ache with tiredness. It started to dissolve, and Kyle staggered slightly. 

Chaos was staring at Kyle, and so was Mysterion. The villainous redhead was gaping, and Kyle’s heart was racing. 

That hadn’t been Kenny. 

This was him. 

He felt Kenny’s emotions, knew the kid in the street was named Jimmy even if he never introduced himself, saw the two coming around the corner, felt the presence of people and fear in the city, a physical shield. 

Kyle had powers. 

“GO HOME!” Mysterion roared, voice inhuman and unrecognizable. He shoved Kyle away, the boy stumbling off balance. “GO. HOME. GET OUT.” 

He had powers. He didn’t know what to do with that. His head ached and all he could see was blue. Chaos was watching suspiciously, and took a step towards him. 

“You’ll just be in the way,” Mysterion hissed, and darted towards the villains.

He...Kyle staggered off, catching himself on the side of the building. What was happening? Why now?!

Terror flooded him. Fighting behind, but he...what was... 

—

Kyle stood in the middle of his living room and raised his hands. Silently, stupidly, waiting. Nothing. 

He looked down at his hands. He was about six degrees away from panic. He had powers. He absolutely had superpowers, was one of the people who flocked to the city to play on the playground of supers, had risen above brawler without even realizing it, he had actual superpowers. 

He slumped onto the couch, feeling clammy. How? His family had no powers. He was kind of old to start this, wasn’t he? He’d just been looking into the brat villain gang who was trying to ‘earn rights’ for heroes, had a job as a court reporter, was trying to help his actual superhero boyfriend in his work. 

This wasn’t something he thought would ever happen. He didn’t understand why it was happening. 

A prickly feeling tapped at his skull, and Kyle whirled to see Mysterion staring at home from their bedroom door. 

Kyle jumped to his feet, wavering slightly. Mysterion was breathing hard, was saturated in sweat and smeared blood, and was holding his arm incorrectly. 

“You got hurt,” He groaned, fighting off the dizziness and nausea to approach him. “What happened?” 

Mysterion was still breathing hard, and shook his head. “Had to see you,” He said, breathlessly. “Had to know you’re okay.” 

“I’m fine,” Kyle pushed his hood back, pulled off the mask. Kenny blinked, the only part of his skin not covered in sweat, dirt, and blood being what was covered by the mask. “Shit, dude, you’re a mess.” 

“I’m going back out, Ky,” Mysterion protested, closing his eyes as Kyle cupped his face. “Just stopped in.” 

“You’re exhausted and you look dead on your feet,”  
Kyle didn’t touch his arm but looked carefully at it. “Your arm is broken, isn’t it?” 

Kenny was silent. 

“You’re going to a hospital,” Kyle said firmly. 

“I can’t out my identity,” Kenny protested wearily. 

He wasn’t taking that. “A lot of people probably got hurt today, change your clothes and wash the blood off, we’re going to the emergency room,” He gently took Kenny’s other arm, but the boy jerked away. 

Kyle withdrew, staring, but Kenny wasn’t looking at him. 

“Kenny,” Kyle said slowly. 

“I can fix this,” Kenny said softly, blue eyes raising to meet his. “Easy. It’ll take me two minutes. Okay?” 

He didn’t need powers to know what he meant. 

“No,” Kyle squeezed his other arm tightly, bile rising in his throat. “Absolutely out of the question. You’re not killing yourself.”

“I’ll come right back,” he said gently, eyes pleading. “It hurts, Ky. I’ll be good as new by tonight.” 

He couldn’t breathe. 

“I love you,” Kenny murmured, leaning in. “I love you, Kyle. It’ll be okay. I promise.” 

Kyle blocked his face so quickly he smacked him. Kenny stared. 

Kyle took a long, careful breath. 

“You can’t kill yourself every time you’ve got problems,” Kyle said coolly. His green eyes trained on the boy. “You aren’t killing yourself, so get cleaned up and head to the hospital.” 

Kenny’s blue eyes narrowed. He was ready to fight. “You are not in charge of me.” 

“I’m not,” The redhead went toe to toe with the vigilante, “But I listened to you today and now you’re going to listen to me. You can’t deal with things that way, Kenny. And definitely not if you’re dating me.” 

Kenny twitched, anger flirting over his face. “Are you going to break up with me, Kyle?” 

Yeah, no. He wasn’t getting into this. 

“Apparently I have powers,” Kyle mentioned. “What if I kill myself and see if I come back?” 

Kenny flinched, the anger draining away into tired concern before his eyes. 

“Come on,” Kyle tugged him towards the bathroom. “Let’s get you cleaned up first.” 

Kenny silently followed Kyle, avoiding his gaze. Kyle tossed his cloak out into the hallway, motioning for him to turn around. Neither spoke as Kyle unzipped the uniform, Kenny taking his good arm out of the outfit first. 

Kyle carefully took the uniform off his bad arm, noticing Kenny’s eyelids flutter but no other indication that it hurt. 

The bathroom was silent as Kyle turned on the shower and Kenny kicked off the uniform. There was a lot to cover. This was the most important piece at the moment, however. Kyle was more distressed over the fact Kenny’s first instinct was to commit suicide to avoid pain than over him having some freaky mind energy powers. That was a problem for after he was sure he wouldn’t run out the door into traffic. 

“Are you dizzy at all?” Kyle asked and Kenny shook his head. “Head injuries?” Another shake. Good. “Then stand under the water. Hold your arm however is comfortable. I’ll be right back.” 

Kenny obeyed silently, eyes dead and avoiding any part of Kyle. The Jewish boy went into their room to shuffle through Kenny’s half of the dresser. 

He snatched a shirt out of the closet, listening carefully to the bathroom. His heart was racing. He was willing to kill himself that easily. How many times had he done this before? 

Kyle was back in the bathroom under a minute, Kenny closing his eyes and letting the water hit him. 

“It’s cold,” he mumbled, and Kyle tossed the clothes onto the sink. 

“Washes off blood better,” Kyle told him calmly. “Stop being a crybaby, I’ll turn it off in a second.” 

His hair was mostly fine, he could shower thoroughly when they got back. It was just washing off blood for now. Kenny was shut down, tired and infuriated. Mysterion might punch things when angry but Kenny simply stopped everything. 

He’d done this a lot lately. 

“So.” Kyle leaned against the sink. “What happened with Chaos?” 

Kenny set his jaw. “Since people are calling to kill powers, he’s come back to remind people that we deserve respect.” 

Okay. What a terrible plan. “That sounds...” 

“Never underestimate him,” Kenny told Kyle, staring off at nothing. “That’s gotten me in trouble several times before. He’s dangerous and unstable, and his sidekick is even more sadistic. Chaos can sometimes be reasoned with. Disarray is a one-track villain with set ethics. All bad.” 

It was...Kyle felt a weird little flutter in his stomach and snorted. 

Kenny glared at him, misinterpreting it, and Kyle shrugged his shoulders and looked away. 

“It’s just...” this was embarrassing, but maybe something Kenny would need to hear. “I don’t know if I ever told you. I used to be one of Mysterion’s fans. Back when he was always up against Chaos and one of the only defenders of the city. It’s just kind of funny to hear you talk about it.” 

Kenny’s expression softened, water dripping off himself as he reached to finally turn it off. “Were you?” He asked, softly. 

“Oh yes.” Kyle toweled off his hair, watching a smile finally curve his lips. “I followed everything about you. Religiously. I’d check the news when I woke up and before I went to sleep.” 

A real smile now, and Kenny stepped closer. “I’m almost jealous,” He murmured, dripping wet and naked but still moving to try and smooch Kyle. “He was on your mind day, night, and in your dreams.” 

Kyle gave in. “Yes, you were,” he told him, and Kenny brought the redhead in for a slow kiss. Much less harried than earlier, less forceful, lazy and sweet. Two kisses, six, Kenny’s good arm curving so his hand was at the small of Kyle’s back. 

There was so much distance between them, always. Sometimes it was nice to have that bridged. Today either pulled them apart further or brought them together. He wasn’t sure which, but other things were more pressing. Kyle reluctantly broke the string of kisses. 

“Hospital, babe,” Kyle reminded him, and Kenny jerked. 

“Did you just call me babe?” He asked, amazed, grinning as the sun came back into his face. 

Kyle flushed, moving to push his clothes at him. 

“Just get dressed,” He ordered him. “We’re probably going to have to talk.” 

Kenny went quiet again, the light dying. He nodded once, dressing with one hand, and Kyle helped him into the button-up shirt. 

“For the record,” Kyle said grimly, “I have no idea what’s going on.” 

Kenny closed his eyes. Breathed in. 

“I had a suspicion,” He said slowly, reluctantly. “I just didn’t know you’d develop whatever this is so quick.” 

“You know what caused it?!” Kyle paused in his buttoning to gape at him. 

“No, no,” Kenny corrected. “I just...I thought I saw something. I’ll...later. We’ll talk later.” 

Kyle nodded. Buttoned the last button. Straightened his collar for no reason. Kenny watched him curiously, a clear question in his eyes. 

The world was changing so much. So much reality was being warped. Kyle always felt like he was just out of step. He took a breath, and looked up at him. 

He was going along with this. He went along with Kyle with almost no convincing. 

Kenny showed his love in more sublte ways than Kyle did, but it was still hard to miss. 

“We’ll talk later,” He agreed, meeting his eyes. “It’ll be okay.” 

Kenny pressed his forehead against Kyle’s, closing his eyes. He let him, gave him a few precious seconds before he’d drag him off to the hospital. 

He didn’t know what was going to happen now.


	6. Set

Kenny was exhausted by the time they even got into an actual hospital room. He had his arm set, Kyle remained at the hospital with him, and neither said a single word about what happened. Just mentioned that he was hurt during the fight downtown, which Kyle still didn’t know much about. While everything was going on, he went onto his phone an searched for details about what happened. There was little to be found. 

So, the reporter resorted to watching the medical staff fuss over his boyfriend, arms resting on the chair armrests and catching Kenny’s eye from time to time. 

He couldn’t get a feel for his emotions at the moment. Kyle was starting to be hit with the reality of it. He had powers. Superpowers. He was one of the people in the city with superhuman abilities. He kept repeating this to himself, over and over. Psychics and Elementals ran the town, power-wise. 

And Kenny knew something about it. He had caught on to something. Maybe that whole thing with the scars had simply been him, he’d seen them again when he caught up with Kenny on the streets. Along with feeling the presence of the enemies, reading people’s minds, and all kinds of weird shit. 

“Kyle?” A nurse was kindly trying to get his attention, and the boy snapped back to attention. 

“Yes, sorry?” He straightened, eyes flicking to the begrudging patient regarding his casted arm. 

“We’re going to get all Kenny’s papers together and you’ll both be ready to leave, okay?” 

He was being released. Kyle exhaled, the tightness in his chest subsiding. Kenny was making faces for whatever reason. “Great. Thank you.” 

They were left alone, Kenny grumpily prodding the hard plaster with his opposite hand. He looked utterly pissed, nose wrinkled and lips pouting like a child. 

Kyle watched him, jaw set. He’d have to keep an eye on him. If he tried to off himself to get better faster he’d…well, he’d say he’d kill him, but he couldn’t even conjure a smile at the wording. 

They walked out into the hall, heading to the main desk, neither speaking or even looking at each other. Kenny gently bumped Kyle’s hand with his good arm, and the redhead slipped his fingers into his. 

They paused at the checkout desk, getting all the information and setting up a schedule for when they’d next come back, to the non-emergency part of the hospital, to make sure Kenny’s arm wasn’t going to fall off or whatever dumb joke the blond gently used to try and wipe the frown off Kyle’s face. 

He still felt queasy. His head hurt, this was something absolutely…unpredictable. He had Kenny to look after now, and not to mention-

It was as if something clicked, and the world turned blue. Kyle jerked, suddenly flooded, emotions hitting him like a punch to the stomach. There wasn’t even one he could dissect, there were so many, conflicting and wavering and changing. There were people everywhere, floors up and walking or running down halls, lying in beds. 

He could shift the view, almost like he went from viewing it as a person to someone spectating, turning the building to view the amount of people per floor. It removed him from the emotions a little, easing the massive pressure on his brain. It was remarkable, he could shift the view even more, as if he held a block in his hand and was watching the different sides. He took a breath, hand pressing against his forehead, and he was suddenly jerked forward. 

He fell into Kenny, stumbling as the other boy caught him awkwardly with his good arm. Behind them, the lights flared, popping loudly in a line that raced towards the two and left them under dead lights. 

Kyle righted himself, gripping onto Kenny’s shirt, hearing everyone speak far away, distant. Kenny’s arm was around him tightly, fingers twisted into his own clothes. 

The color faded, letting him fall back into the ‘real’ world, people were inspecting the lights already and one of the nurses was trying to check on Kyle. 

“He’s got sensitive ears,” Kenny laughed, heart pounding wildly under Kyle’s hands. “He’s always hearing the lights. You okay, Kyle?”

“Yeah,” He said automatically, conscious of the easy conclusion one could come to in a world full of superheroes. He nervously threw his heart into his new momentary acting career. “That was loud.” 

Kenny was giving him a look that he utterly didn't deserve. 'He heard the lights' was a stupid coverup to begin with. 

“We’re good here?” Kenny checked, and kept his hand at the small of Kyle’s back as he ushered him out of the building. 

Kenny, the super-vigilante, fierce and fearless ball of fire… his hand was shaking where he kept a grip on Kyle. 

“This is psychic shit,” He murmured to Kyle as they approached the car. “Ky, you’re a Psychic type.” 

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking Pokemon, Kenneth,” Kyle held the door open for his boyfriend, torn between laughing and slumping down onto the asphalt and losing his mind. 

He dropped into the driver’s seat, staring at the wheel. The blond shifted quickly, all seriousness and strained expressions. 

“Are you going to be okay to drive?” Kenny asked, sitting facing his seat, leaning into his space. “What the hell happened back there?”

Kyle slammed his hands onto the wheel, gently resting his head on top of his hands. 

“I could see everyone inside,” He said, trying to sort through the event in his head. “All the floors, all the people, and somehow I could see the whole building. I could feel emotions. It’s exactly what happened when I saw Chaos and Disarray, I knew they were all there, I could _feel_ them, and I didn’t even meant to do it…”

He trailed off, lifting his head to look over at his partner. Kenny was watching him seriously, arm held carefully, but much less analytically than Kyle would have expected. 

He looked worried. 

“Hypervigilance?” Kenny murmured. 

“Yes. And the thing where you sense what other people’s emotions are,” Kyle pushed himself back from the wheel, inhaling. “Empath. I’m an Empath.” 

He was an Empath. And maybe something else, Telekinetic, something, if he could block an attack like that...

Kenny leaned back against his own seat, still facing Kyle. Neither said anything. The blond looked exhausted and worried out of his mind. 

“Put your seatbelt on,” Kyle told him, reaching over to brush his cheek in a quick, affectionate gesture. “You need to get some rest.”

Kenny obediently clicked his seatbelt into place, finally sitting correctly. “You sure you can drive?”

“Yeah,” Kyle said, nodding. “Yeah. I’m not going to be able to do that again for a while.”

Kenny gave him a weak smile. “If you kill me, this is all gonna be for nothing.” 

Kyle decided smacking someone who just had their arm set wasn’t the best idea and showed great self-restraint by saying nothing more. 

Kenny had one ankle crossed over his knee, leaning back against the window. He was radiating nervousness, Kyle didn’t need to be an empath to realize that. 

This was something Kyle was never really going to be able to fully realize. This was surreal, but he couldn’t ignore or deny what happened. He had powers. He’d come face to face with Chaos. He’d talked his boyfriend out of killing himself for a quick fix for a broken arm. 

“Back when I died,” Kenny said suddenly, still looking out the window, “You tried to bring me back.” 

“What?” He kept his eyes on the road, but Kyle made up for the absence of emotion with his tone. “I did what?” 

“It didn’t _work_ ,” Kenny said, and Kyle wasn’t sure what he was supposed to gain from that tone, “But it was…you grabbed me, and you tried to keep me.”

Kyle was pulling into their parking lot, sparing a quick glance in his direction. “Keep you?” 

“I was dying,” Kenny said softly, “I could…it’s happened so often, I can _feel_ myself going, and you grabbed me and yanked me back.” 

Car safely in park, Kyle unbuckled his seatbelt and turned, so violently his knee hit the middle console. “I brought you back from the dead?!” 

“Tried,” Kenny said, unbuckling as well and carefully removing it from his bad arm. “It didn’t work. But holy shit, Kyle, it…” 

His hands were shaking again. Kyle grabbed the one that wasn’t connected to broken bones, squeezing tightly. 

Kenny didn’t get shaken. Seeing him like this was unnerving enough to be giving Kyle jitters. The boy laughed nervously, pressing Kyle’s fingers gently to his lips. 

Kyle watched him, thumb smoothing over his skin. “You’re moving around a lot for someone with broken bones,” He mentioned, watching Kenny actually smile at that. 

“Sure,” He said, finally letting go of his hand. “Not like I haven’t had my fair share of pain, Kyle.” 

They both got out of the car, Kyle slamming his door shut with satisfaction. “You’re saying you’re used to pain?” He asked, disliking the sound of that. That sounded awful for anyone, but Kenny was really…he had enough bad in his life, this was just a mess. 

“Well, no,” The boy admitted, brushing up against Kyle as they walked to their apartment. “You never really get used to pain. You just become better at blocking it out.” 

Ugh. Kyle jammed the keys into the lock with ferocity, jaw tight. Kenny would have been a literal kid when he started up as a hero. With nothing but rebirth and pain blocking as his aide. 

“Well, tonight you’re going to be superdrugged on pain pills and I’m making you dinner,” Kyle told him as he turned the lights on and let Kenny step through the door. “You’re resting. Hopefully no pain blocking needed.” 

Kenny slung an arm around his neck and gave a loud, overdramatic smooch to his cheek. “Worth it.” 

“Shut up,” Kyle turned his chin to kiss him smoothly on the lips. “I’d elbow you if you weren’t so damn pitiful at the moment.” 

“Yep, that’s me,” Kenny said, doing his best to imitate a poor, crippled orphan left alone in a blizzard. He tightened his arm to make Kyle struggle to get away. “Please pull your punches, Kyle, you wouldn’t want to hurt my delicate, lily-white skin-”

“You don’t get to use the term lily-white if you call _me_ pasty,” Kyle protested, tickling Kenny’s sides in lieu of a light elbow and sending the boy squealing away. “Go get changed. I’m not wearing hospital clothes around the house.” 

“Yeah Mom,” Kenny said, easily catching the keys one handed that Kyle tossed to him. “Thanks for cooking dinner, Mummy, are you going to make me chicken soup?” 

“Pasta,” Kyle retorted, pulling out the ingredients and letting the meat sit out a minute before use. “You little brat.” 

“With real noodles this time, right?” Kenny’s slightly distressed voice came from the bedroom. “Not that zucchini shit.” 

“That was delicious, and by the way you are a grown-ass man, Kenneth McCormick,” Kyle called to him. 

Kenny said something in reply. 

“What?” Kyle asked, taking out a skillet and a pot. 

“Nothing!” Kenny replied. “And definitely nothing to do with _your_ maturity, my dearest darling.” 

“Fuck off,” The redhead said kindly, finally following to change his own clothing. 

Kyle paused in the door, watching. Kenny’s teeth were grit and he was clumsily trying to undo the buttons smoothly, the crisp new shirt too starched to have much give around the buttonholes. 

Of course. He didn't even stop to think if Kenny might need help so much as undressing for some stupid reason. Kyle mentally kicked himself as he stepped in and undid the buttons, carefully removing the sleeve from his arm. 

“And you’re dressing me, too,” Kenny said, the cheerful lilt still in his voice and making Kyle’s skin crawl. 

“You want a large tshirt, maybe?” Kyle asked, shirt draped over his arm. 

“I can get it myself,” Kenny reassured him, stalking away. “You’re so fussy, Kyle.” 

Sure. Pretend he didn’t soak up the attention and fucking live for it. He was such a baby. Kyle tsked his tongue, turning around and noticing the clothes on the floor. 

His first instinct was to pick it up and hurl it at Kenny’s head like all the other times he left his clothes in the floor, but Kyle picked it up purely out of habit and froze. 

Funny. Aside from helping Kenny with it, this was first time he ever held Mysterion’s uniform. It was thick, reinforced to withstand minor attacks and give it’s owner a chance to fight. Because that’s what the Vigilante was, at the base. A fighter. 

Kyle was a Psychic, if the Hypervigilance and Empathy was something to go by. Not to mention whatever force field he’d thrown up earlier to block the shot by Chaos. Kenny was a Brawler, Regeneration and Healing being really all he had. 

Technically, that would put him on a higher tier than Mysterion. 

He was more powerful, base wise, than Mysterion, the Shadowed Vigilante and the city’s most feared figure. The thought was just shattering. He went face to face with _Professor Chaos_ , the ex- (now re?) -terror of the entire city. And he did so next to Mysterion, who he protected for a moment with powers he didn’t even realize he had. 

Kyle stared at the uniform in his hands, sturdy material already warming to his body heat. 

“D’you want me to put it on or what?” Kenny asked, making Kyle jump. The blond was wearing a disgustingly pleased grin. “You gonna start kissin’ the pecs of the uniform or something?” 

“Go to hell, Kenny,” Kyle automatically snapped, face flaming. Fuck. 

“Already been,” Kenny stuck his tongue out at Kyle like a toddler. “And came back just to be your nightmare, baby.” 

Somehow he had a feeling he’d used that comeback more than…a lot. It unnerved him, enough to where Kenny’s grin fell. 

“Hey, sorry,” He started, but Kyle interrupted him. 

“No, I shouldn’t have…that was a dumb thing to say.” His boyfriend had literally died. If Kyle had the balls he’d ask if Kenny ever…ever saw anything after death. But the thought of him eve being that far gone made him feel like throwing up. “Sorry.” 

“Forgiven,” Kenny said, smile softening as he finally tossed the tshirt onto the bed. “Also, I give up for now. I’m going shirtless. Maybe I can get you to stare at my chest instead of a piece of cloth, that way.” 

“Stop,” Kyle protested, still awkwardly holding the uniform. “You do _not_ get to use this for blackmail.” 

“See, I was thinkin’ more like extortion,” Kenny said, going straight back to utter glee. “Can we please talk about the fact you knew my old enemy and got all excited over it?” 

“I was not-” Kyle barely got a word in edgewise.

“Religously, you said,” Kenny’s eyes sparkled. “Tell me. Tell me all the dirty details.”

“There were none!” Kyle said, angrily stripping off his shirt. 

“Did you have a poster?” Kenny The Helpful tossed Kyle the tshirt from the bed. “Tell me you had posters of me slathered up, like my old room-”

“I did not have posters!” Kyle pulled the shirt over his head, face flaming. “I was interested in the kinds of things you were doing- people you were saving.” 

“Uh huh.” Kenny tilted his head, smiling in a way that Kyle wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before, but still was startlingly ‘Kenny’. “Tell me you didn’t have pictures of me. To my face, Kyle.” 

He was not doing this to him. He couldn’t just walk away, that was insinuating too much. 

“For- for- I was trying to- study superheroes, I was-” He was stumbling all over his words and Kenny just about lost it. 

“You did?!” He crowed, gripping his bad arm but with no less joy on his face. “You had pictures of me! I can’t believe it, you- you were a Mysterion _fanboy_!”

“Shut up!” Kyle had absolutely nothing to defend himself with. “I was not!” 

“You weren’t crushin’ on Mysterion a little?” Kenny’s tone was begging Kyle for details. “Shit, babe, if I had the least idea I would have had him come right to your door and woo you, sexy vigilante style, give you some superhero romancin’ of a lifetime-”

“You would not!” Kyle knew better than that. Kenny treated Mysterion like the persona was a loaded gun. “And I was not a fanboy. I was-”

Kenny, cleverly, took another direction entirely and sauntered over. 

“You,” He interrupted with a soft purr, “Stood alongside Mysterion and faced Chaos, his old ex-enemy without any prior training or even knowledge of your powers.” He leaned, into Kyle’s space and with soft, half-lidded blue eyes. “Tell me that’s not something that would have made a teen Kyle, writing self-insert fanfiction in his darkened bedroom, wet his fucking pants.” 

“I was not a fanboy,” Kyle repeated yet again, like a broken record, staring into his eyes like a hypnotized man. 

“No?” Kenny slowly leaned closer, nose brushing against Kyle’s. 

“No,” Kyle affirmed, just as Kenny slipped his tongue over his lower lip. 

So maybe Kenny stumbled across his exact train of thought when he first came across the uniform. Kyle stood next to him and didn’t falter in the presence of the one, singular person who people found more terrifying than Mysterion himself. He stood next to the Vigilante against Chaos, and flicked his wrist to deflect a bolt of lightning. 

And fuck, now… He had Mysterion, had the boy entangled with him, Kenny had fallen in love with his old friend just as Kyle had him, and _Mysterion_ was now just as hopelessly lost for _Kyle_ as he was for Kenny…

“Kyle,” Kenny murmured against his lips, drawing back just enough to look down at him through his eyelashes. 

“Hm?” Kyle’s hand brushed the nape of his neck, relief finally soaking into his shoulders. 

“Was I the height of your pubescent fantasies?” 

“Alright, mood ruined,” Kyle gave his hair a gentle tug, brushing lovingly down his cheek. “You’re such an asshole, dude.” 

Kenny kissed his cheek unapologetically. His arm looped around Kyle’s waist and he nuzzled against him, maybe thinking Kyle couldn’t feel his suppressed giggles. 

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” Kyle gently warned him, trying not to touch his arm. 

“I’ll be fine, Kyle,” He reassured him, but leaned back obediently when Kyle gently pushed at his chest. “Seriously. Don’t lose any sleep over this.” 

“I am,” Kyle told him, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall, “ _definitely_ , going to lose sleep over all this.” 

“I mean, same,” Kenny relented, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “Fuck, man, you’re…you’re a Psychic.” 

Kyle nodded, slightly. What do you say to that? Yep. Turns out I have superpowers and I have no idea what happens from here. 

“Yep.” He said, deciding against the hopelessness of the rest of it. 

Kenny set his jaw, gently cupping his cheek. “You’re going to figure out what you can do,” The taller boy said, as confident as if he’d thought this over already. “Because you are not going to want your powers manifesting in public. You can work from home, right?” 

“I mean, I need stories,” Kyle ran a hand through his own hair. “I could edit for them,”

“Definitely do that,” Kenny urged. “Kyle, this is serious shit. Only thing more dangerous and unpredictable than Psychic powers would be an Elemental. You’re going to have to be very, very careful.” 

There it was again. That switch between Kenny and Mysterion. It was subtle, almost like a confidence boost. The way he held himself, spoke, the incline of his head. Confidence seeped into every bit of his body. God. Damn. Kyle loved this boy. 

“Yeah,” Kyle said, and Kenny gently pat his cheek rough enough to make his nose scrunch. 

“Try not to drool, babe,” Kenny’s eyes shone with mischief, the strictness of Mysterion evaporating for one smooth second. 

“What am I supposed to do, then?” He asked, “Sit around and try to move spoons with my mind?”

“Sure,” He said, ruffling Kyle’s hair. “I’m…I just had my arm broken, I bet I can take a couple days off. We’ll figure something out, we can see what you can do, it’s-” He yanked lightly on his curls. “Wish I had some superhero pals in the Psychic category. I don’t.” 

“Do you have any friends?” Kyle said, unable to help himself. 

“Rude,” Kenny said, moving to touch his arm again. It had to be starting to hurt. “And no, I don’t.” 

Naturally. Kyle wasn’t sure he’d want to be pals with Mysterion if he was another hero on the streets. 

“Hey!” Kenny chirped, still holding his arm. “Try something superpowered. Let’s see what we’re in for.” 

There was something there, something oddly eager. Kyle tilted his head, wondering if he should push him or leave it for now. His eyes drifted to his stationary arm, the one Kenny kept touching if he moved too quickly. 

Oh, he’d leave the cripple alone for now. 

He took a breath. Kenny had some kind of plan, of course. He'd have to wheedle it from him carefully. Maybe once Kenny wasn't so tired and they both weren't still coming down from the adrenaline high of the fight. Kyle relented, gaze drifting across the room. Something superpowered, he’d said. What should Psychics be able to do? 

Kyle only had a vague plan of what he wanted. He set his eyes on the nightstand and wanted it to move. 

Instead of the actual furniture shifting, everything flew off it and went sliding across the floor, the porcelain lamp cracking against the table side. 

The two watched the chaos, a now-empty glass rolling lethargically between their feet. Kyle scowled at it, and Kenny started to grin. 

He gave Kyle an exaggerated thumbs-up, grin infectious. “Sexy, dude. Sexy.”


	7. Bleeding

“Should I go get some armor, baby, or you think you got it?” Kenny’s teasing voice came from the corner, where the injured blond sat smugly on the couch they’d shoved out of the way. 

Kyle shot him a look, pushing curls out of his eyes. He was sweating, despite the fans being on and wearing cool clothing. This was a little more strenuous than he planned for. 

“Don’t glare at me,” Kenny was hanging off the couch, arm held oddly, smiling at the boy standing in the middle of their cleared-out living room. “I’m going to have to fix the table if you want a place to eat tonight.” 

“You better stop being an ass if you want food to eat tonight,” Kyle threatened. “You want to eat?” 

“Sure,” Kenny’s too-blue eyes narrowed as a grin crept over his face. “I was just saying, you’re giving the cripple more work over here- Hey!” 

Kyle swept his hand, managing the one feat he was actually able to do without fail. Carefully-stacked pillows, frames, and drinking glasses tumbled off the table next to Kenny, not even startling him as he picked up the objects with his good hand. 

“Stop being fussy and try again,” Kenny threw a pillow at him. “Wow me, babe.”

Kyle said nothing but finally relented. He was already exhausted but this needed to work. Kenny was fucking minimizing again, he needed to control this. 

He stood like he was expecting a punch, sturdy and waiting. Focus. Bring it in. 

He reached for the table, the world turning electric blue, flooding his eyesight as he tried to force it _here_. 

The table legs screeched against the floor, table flying towards the redhead with alarming speed. 

Kyle jumped backwards as the table toppled over for the fourth time tonight, the three legs left sadly sticking in the air like a three-legged, upturned cow. 

He plopped onto the couch, over Kenny’s legs, dragging his hands through his hair in utter frustration. 

Despite having a broken arm, Kenny was able to take his legs back and easily crawl over to lean gently on him. 

“Kenny, I’m sweating,” Kyle protested, looking at the sad little table in the middle of the floor. 

“Yeah, man, you’re working hard,” Kenny rested his head against Kyle’s, good arm reaching to take one of Kyle’s hands away from his hair. “It’s chill, dude. Take a break.”

“I’m not getting any better at this,” Kyle entwined his fingers with Kenny’s, kissing his hand before letting it fall between them. 

“No, you aren’t,” Kenny agreed. “I’m just glad this doesn’t seem emotionally linked. Can you imagine what would happen if your powers got frenzied any time you were pissy?”

“Ugh.” Was Kyle’s only comment there. 

“Exactly,” Kenny nuzzled against his ear, making Kyle lean away ticklishly. “You’d bring the house down on me in a day.” 

Kyle closed his eyes as Kenny settled against his side again, not bothering with a response. He was lucky he hadn’t brought the house down yet. There wasn’t any fucking reasoning behind this, wasn’t anything logical to figure out, just repetitious trials in case it _was_ linked with emotion, in case his powers began manifesting in public and he was outed, a thousand different situations he just couldn’t prepare for. 

Kenny kissed his cheek, humming softly against his skin. He’d been eerily cheerful, to the point where Kyle was suspicious. Something was up. 

“How’s your arm?” Kyle asked, thumb brushing over his hand. 

“Just dandy,” Kenny said cheerfully. “It itches like hell, though. I hate casts.” 

“Mmn.” Kyle opened his eyes again, sending a look over their living room, furniture pushed to the corners of the room and table sadly lying all alone in the middle. Kenny might never have had a cast before. He didn’t like what that implied. 

Both of them were quiet, Kenny snuggled into his side and Kyle frowning at the rest of the room. Something still made him uneasy. 

“What am I supposed to accomplish?” He asked, looking at the sad little table. “I have powers. Am I supposed to stay home now until I’m sure they won’t manifest in public, just live my life in a fucking room? I can move shit around. I knew that yesterday and that’s all I’ve gotten today.” 

Kenny didn’t move, but Kyle could feel the heavy breath he took. 

“Just try it again, babe,” The blond nudged him gently. “You’ve got this. You’re kickass, dude.” 

That was not an answer. Kyle couldn’t believe that Kenny thought he could get away with that, but a cursory glance showed him that he really didn’t. 

Kenny looked resigned, leaning back against the couch to watch his boyfriend bristle. 

“Kenny,” Kyle started, but the boy was already shaking his head. 

“Just trust me, Kyle, please,” The boy gently brushed his chin. That uncomfortable look was back in his expression and was quickly followed by resignation as Kyle straightened. 

“Don’t even try that,” Kyle turned directly to face Kenny, who groaned. 

“Don’t try yourself, asshole,” Kenny looked tired, moving to lie back on the couch with a wince, resting his feet in Kyle’s lap. “I’m tired of fighting.” 

“This isn’t fighting!” Kyle insisted. “We’re talking. You have to stop brushing me aside.” 

“You have to stop pushing!” Kenny said, throwing his free arm over his eyes. “Kyle, I don’t want to talk to you. Okay? Got it? I’m tired of being pushed around.”

“I’m _worried_ about you!” Kyle pushed at his legs, heart in his throat. “I’m not trying to be a fucking dick!” 

“I know!” Kenny dropped his arm to the side again, staring at the ceiling. “I know that. Lower your goddamn voice, I know that.” 

The redhead rested a hand on his ankle, clenching his jaw. He was nearly biting his tongue, trying to take a quick moment to think. He didn’t understand-

“I’m tired of being made to tell you what I’m thinking all the time,” Kenny said, sitting up with a look of thin-lipped exhaustion. “Look at this from my perspective, Kyle. You have _superpowers_ now.”

“Really?” Kyle couldn’t help the snark. “Like I’m not freaking out over it too. I’m not exactly _happy_ about it, Kenny.” 

“I know you aren’t, babe,” Kenny’s use of pet names made Kyle exhale, shoulders relaxing. “But seriously, think about it. I can’t ever ask you not to get involved now. Ever.” 

“What, you mean in hero work?” Kyle hadn’t thought of that, to be honest. He’d considered helping Kenny, maybe, but not striking out on his own. “I’m not planning on it.” 

“Oh, give me a break.” Kenny rolled his pretty blue eyes at Kyle. “You’re gonna be happy sitting on the sidelines forever? You think I don’t know you? You were ready to jump in between me and Chaos without even knowing if you were going to get hurt.” 

“So that’s what you’re upset about?” Kyle redirected his question, eyes sharp. “Me pursuing hero work?” 

“Partly,” Kenny readily admitted, and interrupted Kyle before he could even open his mouth. “Please, man. Don’t…just give me some time to think about this. Don’t make me keep telling you shit I haven’t even had time to sort in my own mind.”

Kyle watched him, feeling a weird sort of coolness flood his veins. Kenny was genuinely upset. He didn’t usually ask Kyle for things like this, he’d fussed but never objected to Kyle’s interrogating…

And shit, interrogating was a horrible word to apply to a significant other, actually. That wasn’t what he was trying to do, Kenny just didn’t share without prompting, but he wasn’t trying to force him to talk. Only he was, wasn’t he? Obviously he didn’t want to share so he pushed-

“Whatever you’re thinking, knock it off.” Kenny poked Kyle between the eyebrows. “When you’re deep in thought, sometimes you get this real sexy, intelligent look to ya. Hot as hell.” 

Kyle sputtered. “ _Well_ -”

“And other times you look constipated,” Kenny finished brightly. “Stop overthinking shit. Get up and wow me.” 

For fuck’s sake. Kyle smacked his hand away and stood, already feeling tired again. Pull objects, push objects, make objects float. He dragged his hands through his hair, exhaustion seeping into his bones. 

Kenny was hiding something. But now he was wondering if he had the right to even know. But he had to tell someone, right? The kid spent so much of his life alone, Kyle didn’t want him to be stuck in his own head forever. He was used to that, sure, but that didn’t make it right. 

Kyle had ignored and overlooked him for most of their lives. He was determined he wouldn’t anymore. That wouldn’t make up for the years of isolation Ken went through but surely it would help his future? 

Or was Kyle just being a selfish dickhead? 

“Oh my god, man, let me help you.” Kenny stood, playfully shoving him aside with his hip. “I’m tired of seeing you fuck everything up.” 

“Like you know what I’m doing wrong?” Kyle snapped back automatically, stepping aside to give Kenny room to stand. “I’m all ears, asshole.” 

“Well, I am an established and feared figure out among the super scene,” Kenny said lightly, waggling his eyebrows, already pretending the previous conversation never happened. “You’re lucky you have me.” 

“You haven’t been a lot of help so far,” Kyle said flatly, twisting his fingers oddly. 

“Well now I see what I’m doing wrong,” Kenny turned to face him, good hand on his hip. “You’re trying to do shit you haven’t done yet. Trying to follow what you think a psychic should do. Let’s work on what shit you’ve already done.” Kyle didn’t respond, and Kenny leaned forward. “So. What’ve you done so far?”

“Broken things,” Kyle still felt grouchy and he was having difficulty looking at Kenny. He didn’t understand how someone could just _turn off_ thoughts and conversations like that. 

“Nah, I mean out there,” Kenny tilted his head towards the window. “When you came to save my ass. What did you do?” 

Kyle’s eyes drifted towards the window. “Empathy,” He recalled. “Some kind of mind reading, I think. The shield.” 

“The shield.” Kenny looked thoughtful. “That’s pretty useful. Try that.” 

Now? Kyle straightened his posture, eyes skittering around the room and picking a random direction. Feeling foolish, he lifted a hand, trying to focus that protective energy back into the room. 

The two stood there and watched as nothing continued to happen. 

“Nice.” Kenny’s eyes sparkled in a way that hinted he was trying not to laugh. “Okay. Do I need to threaten you before it can happen or something?” 

“It wasn’t exactly me I was worried about at the time,” Kyle snipped, letting his hand fall. “Someone was too busy trying to get a kiss to worry about his arch enemy showing up at the public library.” 

Kenny tilted his head, smiling, looking down at Kyle in a way that gave him chills. Confident, unapologetic. And telling Kyle he made a slip up somewhere. 

“’Kay.” Kenny rested a hand on his hip, pulling him close until they were flush against each other. Kyle kept his hands at his sides in defiance, but Kenny leaned so they brushed noses. 

“So channel some of that worry,” He said, through blond eyelashes. “You’re good at that.” 

“Being an ass might make me toss you to the villains instead,” Kyle tried to remember how to formulate a sentence. 

“Nah. That’s not your style.” Kenny’s hand moved to the small of his back and he kept eye contact. Kyle glanced away. “You’ll protect me and then never let me forget it. You’re sweet like that.”

“Ha!” Kyle said, but Kenny just kissed his nose lightly and moved his hand to brush through his hair. 

“Come on, Kyle,” Kenny coaxed, blue eyes vibrant. “Look at me.” 

He was, albeit in short glances, there was something overwhelming in Kenny’s eyes. He held his gaze, taking in the multicolored blue speckles that made Kenny’s eyes so oddly ethereal. Sometimes it was hard to believe this boy even existed. 

Kenny watched him, fingers combing through Kyle’s curls, arm slowly coming to wrap around his shoulders. 

“Door’s unlocked,” He murmured. “Block it.” 

Without looking, Kyle cast his hand in the direction of their front door, hearing an odd _snap_ and an unnatural soft hum. 

Kenny’s smile turned into a grin, crooked teeth and all. 

Kyle tore his gaze away from Kenny, seeing the shield steadfast just beyond his fingertips, between them and the door. It shimmered, looking solid, and Kyle took the time to actually look at it.

“You know your eyes get kinda blue when you do that?” Kenny said suddenly, calling Kyle’s attention back. 

“Yeah?” He said stupidly. 

“Yeah.” Kenny’s fingers stroked the nape of his neck. “Wild.” 

What happened next was blurred in Kyle’s mind. 

There was a sound, outside. It had to be loud, because he remembered his ears ringing. He was thrown to the floor, glass skittering across the hardwood as he and another warm body slid into the wall, hitting it with such force that Kyle saw stars. 

Something vague. Being angry. Being really, really angry. 

Then. 

Nothing. 

Kyle sat in his apartment, staring at a blown-out window. The screen was melted, a gaping hole leading to lumpy plastic that filled the apartment. He was supposed to do something. He was told to do something. Something he didn’t want to do and made up his mind he wasn’t going to do anyway, only now he couldn’t remember it at all. 

Logically he needed to call someone about the window. Look outside. Head to the storm shelter of the apartment, anything but stand here and stare blankly at the hole in the wall. 

And yet…he had the distinct feeling he was mourning. Like it was wrong to move. 

Kyle sat in a daze as the sun began to set outside, over a pool of blood soaking the pavement below.


	8. Beaten

_Blood oozing down concrete._

_Kyle watched, distantly, as thick blood spurted from split skin, exposing tendons and muscle and the slick red skin of Kenny’s throat. Annoyance flooded his veins and nothing more, Stan making a comment and moving on, Cartman staring and saying nothing before following, surprisingly quiet._

_Kyle watched the blood spilling down the incline of the sidewalk, the iron tang in his nose and mouth thicker in the summer heat._

_And below, Kenny’s mouth open in a silent scream, the child’s eyes glassy and far too blue._

_Kyle stepped over Kenny’s thin, tattered body and continued after his friends, heavy, thick wind carrying the scent of blood off away from them._

The breeze drifted in through the gap in the wall, brushing through reddish locks. Kyle sat on the couch, staring, the street lights outside flicking down below. 

There was something gone, there was something missing, and his brain was trying desperately to snap that missing piece back into place. He couldn’t leave because he was waiting for something, he couldn’t walk away because he’d done that before and it had been _wrong_ , he would not allow himself to do that again.

And yet he couldn’t think of why that had been wrong, for some reason. 

The bedroom door flew open, and Kyle’s sluggish mind didn’t even allow him to be startled. He looked over, seeing the dark figure standing in the door frame. Vaguely, Kyle thought about the bedroom window and whether anything was knocked over, watching the breeze from the living room gently brush his cape to the side. 

“Kyle,” The growl of Mysterion rumbled around Kyle’s name, he moved fluidly, gracefully swishing into the living room towards the man on the couch. 

Mysterion. The mysterious, untouchable hero. Clothed in darkness, flirting with death, dragging bodies through alleyways and breaking bones with his bare hands. He moved slowly, watching Kyle, tangible and real, unlike the phantom he followed so religiously in the news. 

He went after the people no one else could touch, took bullets, stormed fire, hit the cold, unyielding ground. He took punishment for others, put himself in danger to save the innocent, and Kyle had spent so many nights believing this was the night Mysterion was done, only to have him reappear the next night, exacting revenge. 

He really should be worried as to why the vigilante was here, in his living room, but he couldn’t seem to make himself care. 

Kyle just watched, the hero staring down at him, trying to make out any facial features. 

“Kyle,” Mysterion said again, gently, stooping down so they were eye level. “You didn’t leave.” 

He didn’t understand what he meant, he didn’t know why he sounded disappointed but sweet, his mind stuttered over the situation and he didn’t understand at all. 

He didn’t understand why Mysterion’s exposed skin had small, pale blueish marks all over it, or why there were dull, shimmering marks all over his cheeks and neck. 

Mysterion touched his cheek, gloves slick and cold. Was it raining outside? He hadn’t even noticed. 

“Look at me, Ky,” Was that worry? Mysterion cupped his face. “Don’t do this. Snap out of it, I need you right now.” 

“What do you mean?” Kyle’s hazy mind wondered lightly. 

He heard the vigilante sigh. His hands dropped, gently sliding down Kyle’s shoulders and arms before dropping onto the couch. Mysterion lowered his head, cheek resting on Kyle’s legs. 

There wasn’t but a moment before the hero raised his head again and pulled at Kyle’s hands. 

“Stand up,” Mysterion told him, voice commanding. “We’re getting essentials and then we’re out of here. I need you to get up, Kyle. Right now.” 

“Why?” Kyle demanded, feeling that resistance tugging at his brain. “Dude, what are you talking about?”

Mysterion made an angry, frustrated noise, those marks shimmering under his skin. “Get up.” 

“No!” Kyle wasn’t one to follow what he was told, even if the demand was made by a graceful, attractive superhero with too-blue eyes. 

The grip on his hands was becoming painful. Mysterion grit his teeth. 

There was something in the back of his mind, being slammed into a wall, the violence and frustration of a being that only lived on the street. The memory was faded but the feelings… rage, fear, shock… rose to the surface. 

Mysterion brought his hands to his face, pressing Kyle’s slim fingers against his lips with force, throwing them down on his lap and whirling around, disappearing back through the bedroom door. 

Kyle said nothing, and neither did the hero. His head hurt, his pulse pounding the inside of his skull, and he leaned back against the couch to rest in dark silence once again. 

But…odd. Why was there a hole in his living room wall? 

Why the fuck did he feel so calm about a fucking hole in his living room wall?

Kyle slowly stood, stepping over to the window. He tripped on the rug, catching himself on the crumbling walls before looking down. 

There was nothing. His pulse was in his throat but there was nothing there, and he had no idea why he expected to see something. God. Kyle took a step back, taking a breath. 

Someone caught his wrist, pulling him further away from the wall, and Kyle nearly socked them in the mouth before he recognized Mysterion, who shoved his own backpack into his hands. 

“I’m following you,” The vigilante said, hood pulled low over his eyes. Kyle watched his lips move, growling words almost going over his head entirely. “We’re going to a hotel, Kyle. Do you understand?” 

Kyle dropped the bag and kissed him. Mysterion’s lips were warm, gentler than expected, softly kissing Kyle back almost tentatively. As if he wasn’t sure. 

_Unsure, which wasn’t something he would have expected in a kiss from Kenny McCormick. The preteen grasped onto Kyle almost desperately but kissed gently, as if he wasn’t sure. As if he wasn’t sure Kyle could even want it._

_He pushed himself back, looking the other child in the eyes, too-blue and wide, watching Kyle lick his lips._

_And then he’d promptly been stabbed in the side by someone the redhead didn’t recognize, and Kyle felt oddly irritable the entire rest of the day._

Kyle pushed himself back, head heavy, as if his brain was lolling around inside his skull. Mysterion kept a hand on his wrist, carefully pulling him away from the gap in the wall, licking his lips. 

“Kenny?” Kyle blurted, feeling a couple of those pieces begin to snap into place. 

Mysterion exhaled audibly, saying nothing. He nodded slowly. 

“Yeah,” He said, the gruffness never leaving his voice. “That would be me.”

Oh god, what the hell had happened? Kyle stepped into his arms, Kenny hugging him so tightly he could barely breathe. 

“I don’t understand-” Kyle began, still trying to puzzle out the major gap in his memory, but Mysterion interrupted. 

“I know, Kyle, but we need to get you out of here,” He squeezed the man tightly before letting go. “You should have left hours ago, the whole building’s been evacuated.” 

“What? Why?!” What the fuck had happened…how had he temporarily forgotten Kenny- wait, he’d temporarily forgotten Kenny? 

Kyle’s headache was steadily getting worse, but his backpack was being shoved back into his hands and he was being steered like a child towards the door. 

“Kyle Broflovski, it’s a miracle you’re still alive,” Mysterion said wearily, “Don’t make things harder for me. Let’s go.” 

They were taking the back stairway, Mysterion having Kyle walk ahead of him. The boy held the rail as he descended, trying desperately to fit the pieces back together. 

He blanked out, there was a gaping hole in his home and he didn’t know why, he’d forgotten his own boyfriend- one of his oldest childhood friends- and had sat in his living room for God knows how long staring outside. He couldn’t even remember what they’d been doing previously. 

“I don’t fucking understand what’s happening,” Kyle hissed as he opened the back door. Mysterion sidled by to check the alley. “Kenny! What’s going on?” 

“Mysterion,” He corrected, causing a little mental whiplash on Kyle’s part. “We’re outside, Broflovski. I don’t know who might be around.” 

He gestured for Kyle to follow and the boy did, lethargic mind stuttering in it’s attempts to try and catch up with his line of thought. 

“Is it Chaos?” He blurted, the thought coming from nowhere, but the vigilante shook his head. 

“No.” He offered nothing else, infuriating Kyle. 

“What’s going on!?” Kyle ran a couple steps to match Mysterion’s quick, fluid pace. “My brain is all- I can’t remember shit, it’s like I forgot everything- I still don’t know what’s happening-”

“That’s normal, Kyle, I died,” Kenny dropped that information on Kyle’s lap like it was nothing, effectively silencing the redhead. “I think you’re still in the confusion state, I don’t know how to works but it’s alright. Stop freaking out.” 

“I am not freaking out,” Kyle protested, thought a quick mental check brought his attention to shaky hands and sweating palms. “Why are we leaving the apartment?” 

“There’s a fucking wall in our living room, genius,” Mysterion’s lips quirked into a smile as he surveyed their surroundings, the darkened street behind their home. “You’re supposed to be the smart one.” 

“ _Yes_ ,” Kyle didn’t really have a response to that one. Of course they’d leave, but- but-

“Why the secrecy?” He demanded, beginning to catch up. “Why are you Mysterion?” 

The vigilante halted at the corner, before they’d approach the busier road where all of the stores and shops began. He went to dig in Kyle’s backpack, pulling out one of Kenny’s hoodies. 

“Put this on,” Mysterion said, seemingly realizing Kyle wasn’t in a compliant mood. “Please.” 

A part of him found he kind of liked having Mysterion ask him for things, but Kyle still had all the intention of arguing before he realized he was still in his pajamas. 

“What the _fuck_ happened?” Kyle asked, shoving his arms into the shirt and zipping it up. 

“Right?” That at least sounded like Kenny, and the boy drew his hood up, over Kyle’s hair. “Go into the hotel beside the mcdonald’s. I’ve already got a room for us. Your wallet is in the backpack, it has your driver’s license if they want ID.”

“Now hold the fuck up,” Kyle pushed the orange atrocity’s sleeves up over his slightly-shorter arms. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I have one more thing I need to do,” Mysterion insisted. “And then I’ll get my own shit and I’ll be there too. Kyle, don’t-” He pressed his fingers against Kyle’s lips, and the redhead smacked his hands away. “I will tell you everything, I _promise_ , but I’ve been gone too long already. I need to go.” 

“I’ll go too, then,” Kyle lifted his chin, eyes sparking. “I’m not a fucking damsel, Kenneth. I can help you!” 

“No one’s calling you a damsel, Lois,” Kenny’s own eyes sparkled under the mask. “But you’re still confused and I only want to explain this once. You _are_ going to help me. We’re going to tackle this together. Later.” 

Kyle’s face turned hot as he scrambled to think of something to say to that. He wasn’t normally… Kenny included him, just there, why was that flustering him so badly-

Mysterion swooped in for a kiss, sighing when Kyle rested his hands on his waist, warm, toned muscle under his fingers. 

He was definitely still scrambled, but Kenny and Mysterion were melding together and it was so touching and utterly exhilarating. Mysterion asked for help but Kenny left him out of his mind, Kenny loved touch and affection but Mysterion kept him at an arm’s length. Almost like the two couldn’t exist at once. Like he had to have it one way or the other. 

“I love you,” Kyle told him, feeling Mysterion breathe across his lips. “But you drive me crazy.” 

He felt Mysterion’s grin, teeth nipping at his lips before the vigilante leaned back, an almost-punch-drunk look to the smile. 

“I love you,” Mysterion whispered back, kissing his forehead. “Don’t do anything stupid, I’ll be back soon.” 

Kyle had to push himself away, backing up a few steps from the figure, his smile the only thing visible in the shadow cast under the hood. 

Kenny McCormick. The most intriguing, beautiful, mysterious person he’d ever encountered. 

He couldn’t think of what to say. He’d rendered him absolutely speechless and he wasn’t sure how much he could blame on whatever confusion was slogging down his thought process. 

“Did you ever kiss me?” Kyle blurted instead, “When we were kids?” 

Mysterion’s smile froze, lips parting and closing again. 

“Yes.” He said, tilting his head cautiously. 

Kyle took a shivery breath, heart somewhere in his throat. “Why?”

“Depends on which time.” Mysterion stepped back further into the back street, motioning Kyle on. 

Oh no. He needed to hear this, but the next minute Mysterion had vanished. Kyle cussed him out, hoping the absolute jackass could hear him. 

Kyle had no choice but to continue down the street, in his pajamas and Kenny’s hoodie, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. 

Something was very wrong. Kyle sent one last look behind him, knowing he wouldn’t see Kenny, but he knew somewhere, Mysterion was watching, and likely would watch until he was inside. 

Then he’d be off, doing fuck knows what, while Kyle sat in a hotel room. 

He promised he’d tell him everything, though. He promised and then he said, like it was obvious, that they’d work on this as a team. 

His chest still felt warm. 

He was a total sap. 

Kyle walked into the lobby, feeling somewhat stupid in his current getup. He walked up to the front desk, where the high-school-age girl was on the computer, looking up when the boy approached. 

“Hello, how are you?” She greeted, and Kyle began shuffling through the backpack. 

“Good. Uh, I have a room already, booked by McCormick.” He handed over his driver’s license, the girl taking it and bringing up something on her screen. 

“Uh huh. Yep, your husband said you’d be signing in for him. Will you need two cards?” She asked, as Kyle’s brain came to a screeching halt. 

Alright, he might be a little loopy at the moment, but he was _damn_ sure that he and Kenny were not married. He’d done this on purpose. 

He nodded, feeling the last of his brain cells shrivel and die. He had nothing to say to that. 

If this was some kind of hint…. He didn’t know what he would do, but he’d do something. 

“Here you go,” The girl handed him his card and his keycards to the room. “Have a good night.” 

“You too,” Kyle said, starting down the hallway. 

The asshat. 

The room was on the third floor, Kyle slid the card in the door and unlocked it before stepping in. 

The room was fine, it had a small kitchen, living room, then a room with a king sized bed, a bathroom. Small but comfortable, and Kyle tossed his backpack onto the couch. 

He stared at the furniture. He’d pushed his own against the walls back home. He’d been practicing moving items, trying shields, that part was back. But then there was nothing else, not a single memory until Mysterion stepped through the doorframe. 

He had to fix this.

He dug through the backpack, looking for his phone. He connected to the hotel wifi, searching the internet for anything. Some nobodies attacked downtown, but there wasn’t anything specifically on his apartment. 

Kyle flopped down onto the couch, brows furrowed. Nothing on Mysterion. Half a day was past, there should be something. They’d be at the news office working their asses off for tomorrow morning, Kyle stayed away from ‘general’ reporting but he knew how they worked. They’d be there. 

Right now. 

Kyle called the office. 

He leaned back against the couch, eyes flitting over the tv, house plant, heater under the window. He wasn’t going to sit here and twiddle his thumbs until Kenny got back. 

If they were both in this together, he wasn’t waiting to start. 

“Hello?”

Kyle frowned slightly before speaking, something prickling at his brain. “I need to speak to my editor,” He said brusquely. “This is Kyle Broflovski, I’m the court reporter.”

“Oh!” The male voice went from distant to interested immediately. “Th-th-th-the editor is out. Just the-e-e normal crew here.” 

Hold on. Kyle’s brows furrowed as he listened, trying to match that voice. “Who is this?” 

“Jimmy V-v-v-valmer, beat reporter, at your service!” The voice belonged to the same kid he saw on the street during Chaos’ arrival. “Good to know you’re still alive. Those b-b-bas-b-b-”

He had no idea who this guy was, he’d never worked with anyone else in the office aside from his editor and a couple others who worked in the place. But he’d definitely met him that day when he searched for Kenny. 

“-astards are after you next, did you get somewhere safe?” 

He hadn’t been paying attention, shaking himself before re-entering the conversation. “Who’s after what?” 

“Dude, you’re being targeted by some n-new guy. Were you not home?” 

Kyle slowly stood, walking across the floor in a slow circle. “Some new villain targeted my apartment building? How do you know that?!”

“Hold on, check y-y-y-our email,” The reporter said thoughtfully. “I’ll send it to you.” 

Kyle put him on speakerphone, tuning out some joke about clocking in to be attacked by a villain. He logged into his work email, seeing a couple messages from his editor, one from his peer, and yes, one from a J. Valmer. 

He opened it, seeing a photograph of a crudely-written letter. He made the picture larger, leaning against the wall. 

“I’ll call you back,” He interrupted the reporter and hung up, not waiting for a goodbye before sliding to the floor. 

**Among the ones who deserve to pay, in your paper I also name Kyle Broflovski, fa- k- and court reporter. His link with Mysterion, an evil bully playing god, makes him unforgiveable.**

**We will not wait for Broflovski’s resignation. He has chosen to associate with our enemy and has marked himself as one of You,**

**You, who call for Us to go but let Them play in a playground. We have finished being nice and will take action. This is your warning. Put this in your paper.**

**We will kill those who oppose us. We will not be made extinct for being different.**

**-Dangerious**

The ill-written, pretentious note had a lot to unpack, but one thing floored him in particular. The attack on their home was not only deliberate, it was leveled at Kyle. Not Kenny. 

Kyle leaned back against the wall, dropping the phone into his lap. 

And what a stupid fucking name.


	9. Groggy

Kyle had fallen asleep. He was vaguely aware of that, this and the fact that nothing felt or smelled right. ‘Hotel’ was his next thought. His face was pressed into the pillow, body sprawled, hearing the shower run in the hotel bathroom. 

Kyle blearily opened his eyes, shoving the pillow under his chin as he stared at the opposing wall, ugly curtains blowing slightly in the air and a light on behind him. 

Kenny was home. 

Kyle exhaled, closing his eyes again as he listened to the shower. A sense of relief always followed that thought. He shifted, accidentally kicking something and looking down at the foot of the bed. Kenny had brought his duffel bag from home, open and full of haphazard clothing tossed in. 

Kyle settled back against the pillows, staring up at the textured white ceiling. The slow realization of what he was waking up to picked at his brain. He didn’t know what was going to happen. He still needed the story from Kenny…what had happened after the living room psychic training was still a void in his mind. 

He turned back over, watching the wall once again. They had been after him. Some new guy, the other writer had said. It wasn’t Chaos, that meant. It sounded like the anti-journalist fighters. 

They knew he knew Mysterion. What ‘tie’ they knew about…Kyle had no idea. 

What if they knew who Kenny was? 

The shower had stopped, Kyle There was another four minutes before the door opened, Kenny’s silhouette coloring the wall. 

Kyle watched it, jaw set, fighting off the sleep tugging at his brain, making his limbs heavy and his mind sluggish. That or he was still fighting off…that void, he’d forgotten Kenny, that’s right. 

The momentary confusion over sleepiness or forgetfulness worked better to wake Kyle than any cup of coffee. 

Kenny sat on the bed, clearly peering over to see if Kyle was awake or asleep. The redhead turned, meeting his eyes. 

Kenny looked unhurt, still damp, shirtless and hair dripping onto the bed. Kyle’s eyes flit to his uncasted arm, then back to his eyes. 

“You’re getting the bed wet,” Kyle’s voice was still low with sleep, a good deal of grouch in it, and Kenny’s careful, reserved expression melted into a smile. 

“What can I say?” Kenny shook his hair purposely, shifting to rest most of his weight on his elbows. “You’re just too much for me, babe.” 

“ _You’re_ too much,” Kyle grumbled, closing his eyes as Kenny reached to comb back his hair. His own curls were still slightly damp…his own curse was this insane head of hair and it took forever to dry. “What time is it?” 

“Doesn’t matter, we’re both going to sleep,” Kenny’s fingernails scratched lovingly at his scalp. “You okay?” 

Kyle opened his eyes, shooting him the most derisive look he could manage. “After today? Are you?” 

“Getting better.” Kenny’s hand brushed his cheek, calloused fingers barely tracing his skin. “You feel cold.” 

“You’re warm.” Kyle replied, unable to think of a better response, and Kenny chuckled. 

The blond moved to lie down next to him, throwing an arm over his waist and pulling Kyle into his chest. 

He went willingly, wrinkling his nose at the wet hair. “Did you even dry off at all?” 

“Yeah.” Kenny wrapped his arms and a leg around him, cuddling him like a sleepy, happy octopus. “Stop bitching and go back to sleep.”

Everything sitting at the back of his mind screamed at him, the letter, the callout, the void, Kenny died, Kenny died _again_ -

Kyle had only taken a breath to begin talking when Kenny spoke over him, quickly. 

“I need to sleep, Kyle,” The affectionate curl around him tightened slightly, like he was afraid Kyle was about to leave. “Please. It might be the last bit of beauty sleep I get for a while.” 

There was a lot said in that sentence. Kyle was exhausted, tired mind trying to turn that over in his head. Something big was about to change, certainly, he needed to pick that apart and figure out what Kenny meant. 

Goddamn. One of Kenny’s hands was rubbing against his back, soothing and slow, and Kyle did not appreciate being pushed off like this. At all. 

God. He just wanted to rest. They were on the precipice of something very bad, something that might shatter a lot of what Kyle had been taking for granted. Kenny was speaking softly and asking, openly, that they just leave it alone for one night-

It was a bad idea. Of course. But Kenny’s skin was warm and smelled like generic soap -and still somehow like ash and blood and _Kenny-_ and Kyle was exhausted and it was just- 

-

Kyle’s nights were always restless. This was something he was used to, tossing and turning constantly and weird-ass dreams disturbing his sleep. 

That or just brief, sometimes morphed memories: faint and quiet, boring run-of-the-mill dreams of work or home life. 

This walked somewhere in the middle. 

He was walking through a grocery store, somewhere extremely familiar to him for dumb reasons. They re-met in a fucking grocery store. Kyle had just moved to the city, had talked to Kenny about meeting up that weekend, and they run into each other days before in the aisle with frozen fruits. 

He hadn’t realized how tall Kenny was. Kyle himself was a tall kid, but Kenny had a couple inches on him. Kenny, who was tiny as a child and still tiny as a freshman in high school. 

Just that absolute shock, he remembered that so clearly. Seeing the tiny, quiet boy who hid his face towering over him, grinning broadly, face unobscured…Kyle’s lips parted and he couldn’t stop staring. 

Sure, he’d seen a few pictures of him via social media, but they’d been out of touch and he didn’t like following Kenny and seeing who he was dating and he hadn’t seen him in person for years and-

“Kyle!” Kenny had burst, genuinely surprised, joyful, and somehow they ended up hugging in the frozen food section, the redhead talking over Kenny with excitement. 

Here, the lights were dimmed, unlike that morning. The swoop of a cloak around the corner made Kyle lengthen his pace, trying to catch up. This memory wasn’t a bad one…it was good one, and yet the scene was filled with something tense. Dark. 

He’d talked to Kenny, they’d gotten food, he’d invited his friend over to have lunch. They reconnected and Kyle had been thrilled. He forgot most of the conversation they had before they went to his house but it remained a shining, soft memory to think back on. 

The world seemed to tilt, into his old apartment, with a lanky Kenny standing in his kitchen and a caped figure nowhere to be seen. Kyle gave the scene a cursory glance, walking slow, over carpet that felt real against his bare feet. He knew this place, too. 

Kyle kissed Kenny only two weeks later, after a babbling, word vomit conversation that was mostly one sided. Kyle began the whole thing with a pre-written starter and ended up just pouring out his soul. 

Kenny had shone, bright and smiling, and Kyle kissed him. 

Kenny, afterwards, had been nearly giddy in a way Kyle had never really saw before. He covered his lips, wrapped his arms around Kyle’s shoulders, he’d been shaking slightly and it _had_ struck him as a little odd, but Kyle had been too happy to think much on it. 

He stared at this Kenny, only a couple years younger than his, the only change being a sloppier haircut and him wearing piercings. 

He didn’t know why Kenny stopped wearing his earrings, he never answered him seriously. 

Kyle watched him slide around the kitchen, putting away ingredients, hands shaking, smiling at something nonexistent in the kitchen. Him, it was him, he was supposed to be there. Kyle walked around, standing in the place where Kenny was directing his attention, watching with the eyes of someone who wasn’t overcome with emotion and joy and trying to be cool about it. 

Kenny was acting very oddly. 

In the corner of his eye, he saw a knife clatter on the table, and Kenny flinched.

This didn’t make sense. 

Kyle felt a chill and a soft puff of warmth, like someone was breathing down his neck. 

He whirled, finding no one in sight. His heart was in his throat and something was very wrong. There was someone else here. 

He stepped through the doorframe and froze. This didn’t really feel like a dream. 

And distinctly not a memory. 

He smelled blood, body odor, the festering smell of old wounds and he gagged, backed away, stopping in his tracks immediately after. 

Here, the surroundings were clear, they didn’t feel tampered with. Nighttime, the faint light of torches in someone’s backyard, his old neighborhood…

Kenny, tiny and sweet-faced and even thinner than normal, babbling absolute mad nonsense at him, clutching at him, something that made Kyle think he was crazy, he was crazy…why did he look like this when he saw him this morning? 

People chattering in the background. The smell of barbeque overpowered by pus and blood, Kenny’s collarbone jutting through his skin, his right fingers broken, wheezing. 

The apathy he felt could not be normal. 

Kenny kissed him, one last time, and then pushed him away like he was angry. 

Wait, this was first person. Not some weird omnipresent viewpoint. 

Kyle backed up another step, hitting something solid. 

This time, when he turned, he saw Mysterion. 

Sort of. 

Towering over Kyle far more than Kenny did, something seeping from the edges of an ink-black cape, the hood so low his face was hidden, the green emblem on his chest black and oddly wet. 

A chill ran up Kyle’s spine, and he found himself unable to move. The figure seemed to blur at the edges, something malicious under the cloak, something willing to split him open and rip out his heart if he stood in his way. 

Someone grabbed him by the shoulders from behind, familiar and warm hands, a whisper in his ear. 

_“Don’t get too close.”_

The figure lunged and Kyle felt claws around his throat. 

\--

He started, panicking when he realized he wasn’t in his own room. The next minute his eyes rested on Kenny, and he exhaled. 

The boy was still in pajama pants, sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bed and scrolling through something on his phone. 

Kyle sat up, feeling groggy, curls still damp. Kenny looked up, through blond bangs, sharp blue eyes not leaving Kyle as he set down his phone. 

“Morning,” The boy leaned forward, arms resting on his legs as Kyle rubbed his eyes. “Rested, babe?”

Kenny’s voice was soft but direct, multi-blue eyes fixated on the redhead. There was something intimidating in the expression, and Kyle needed to wake up and deal with this right now. 

“Fuck,” He mumbled, mind trying to wrap around the reality. The void, of Kenny, an attack, the hotel.

“They’ve called me out,” Kyle recalled, trying to shake off the veil of sleep. “Kenny, that might’ve been an attack-”

“On you,” Kenny’s brows furrowed, voice becoming low. “Kyle, how did you know that?” 

“Called the office,” Kyle looked around wildly for his phone, snatching it off the bedside table. “Sent the- a letter was sent to the newspaper, I read it last night.” 

Hold on a fucking second. 

“Did _you_ know?” Kyle suddenly demanded, voice raising. “Hold on, what exactly happened yesterday?” 

“Can I see the letter first?” Kenny asked, holding out a hand. 

Kyle’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like the whole demands without answers deal. 

“How many times have you kissed me?” He asked, holding his phone out of reach. 

For a second, Kenny twitched like he might snatch it out of his hands. He leaned back on his hands, a blush beginning to cover his cheeks. 

“I don’t remember,” He admitted. 

“You don’t remember?” Kyle … Kyle would remember, if he had the capacity. Absolutely. “Ballpark. Two? Five?”

The blond exhaled, slowly. “I’ve kissed you around ten times or more, maybe.” He picked up his phone again, turning it aimlessly in his hand. 

Kyle felt like he’d been hit with a truck. Ten times, before high school? Seriously? “I- really?! And I don’t remember any of that?” 

“‘pparently not,” Kenny said easily, a stubborn color still sticking to his cheeks, something Kyle didn’t see often. “Let me see the letter.” 

Kyle opened the email and wordlessly handed it to him, watching Kenny like he hadn’t quite observed him this closely before. 

Kenny kissed him. A lot more than Kyle would have anticipated. A thought flit across his mind that stayed there, embedding in his skull and reverberating. Had he died accidentally or on purpose after that? 

“Well. Guess I know where to start, anyway.” Kenny drawled, smile tight, not quite reaching his eyes. “Thanks, babe. I might be out a while today, but I’ll make sure I come back in one-”

“Did I ever make you upset?” Kyle blurted, unable to let his train of thought go. Kenny paused, confusion clearly stamped on his face as his boyfriend tried to reiterate. “The times you kissed me. Did you just- did I say something awful to you, or did something happen, how could I not remember _ten_ different kisses?” 

Kenny’s look of confusion melted away to something tender, and with it melted the angry, guarded look he’d had a moment prior. He looked touched. 

He flopped onto his belly and squirmed like a sluggish snake over the redhead, wrapping his arms around his waist and pressing his face into his stomach. 

“Wasn’t your fault.” Kenny squeezed him tightly, voice muffled. “Aw, Kyle. You’re so sweet, dude, but don’t worry about that.” 

One of Kyle’s hands rested in his hair, brushing through sunshine-spun locks. He wasn’t really sure what step to take now, but Kenny seemed to cheer, relaxing as the shorter boy lovingly brushed back his hair and they said nothing for a moment. Just the two of them, an empty room, and the most loud-ass air conditioner Kyle had ever heard. 

Kenny nuzzled him only a second more, pushing himself up to sit directly in front of him. 

“Listen to me,” He said, leaning into Kyle’s space with an urgency. “I have to tell you something.” 

“Okay?” Kyle was half-braced for a bad joke, but Kenny merely tapped his lips affectionately and spoke low, soft. Almost apologetic. 

“There’s a lot of things I never told you.” Kenny’s blue eyes were…sad. Kyle couldn’t take his own eyes away. “I don’t know how much you’re going to learn. But I never kept anything from you to hurt you, ever, you gotta believe me here.” 

“I don’t like secrets, Kenny,” Kyle, to his credit, kept his voice soft also. “I think you keep enough shit to yourself.” 

“Maybe.” Kenny ran a hand through his own hair. “This is going to be bad.” 

“Noted,” Kyle couldn’t help but say flatly. “Kenny, there’s some hack with a stupid name after my ass-”

“I don’t know what you’re going to learn about me, or the secrets I’m keeping,” The words were so honest and raw that Kyle’s voice died. Kenny’s eyes were fixed. “You might be mad at some point.” 

He didn’t know what to say to that. 

Kenny didn’t talk openly like this. Not without a mask. Though, the two sides were blurring more and more lately. Kyle looked him over, the serious, grim look on his face, and scowled. 

“Then I’ll get angry and get over it,” He hadn’t meant for his voice to get so loud, and in the quiet atmosphere it seemed to ring. “I’m a fucking adult, Kenneth. I grew up with you. I know you. You’re my- you’re my boyfriend, and I love you, and if you’ve done something stupid it’s probably best you just tell me now.” 

Kenny’s smile split his face, and he looked away, shoulders relaxing. 

“Nah,” He said softly. “It’s not just like I have a secret. It’s more complex than that.” 

“Well?” Kyle’s eyes flashed, but his boyfriend shook his head. 

“I love you,” He said warmly, moving to get off the bed. “And you’re coming with me today, actually. I’ve made up my mind.” 

Kyle was left sitting on the bed, staring after him. “I’m coming with Mysterion?” 

“Nope,” Kenny kicked off his pajama pants and went digging in his bag for some jeans. “You’re comin’ with South Park’s Poor Boy to meet an old pal.”

There was something decidedly sexy in Kenny having figured out a puzzle Kyle didn’t even have all the pieces to yet. Sexy and utterly vexing. 

“This is about the letter,” Kyle began, and his mind came to one awful conclusion. “…No.” 

“Oh, yes,” Kenny snapped his belt into place, reaching in for one of Kyle’s college hoodies and pulling it over his head. “Tell me you didn’t think of him the moment you read the insults about you in the letter.” 

Kyle’s world was shattering. “No fucking way,” He said, hands in his own curls. “Yes, but- he’s here? Really? I’ve had him blocked since like eighth grade-”

“He’s here,” Kenny’s smug grin popped out of the sweater. He looked confident now, like Mysterion, but in that laid-back, sunny personality Kyle loved in Kenny so much. “You ready to visit a best old buddy old pal?” 

God. Kyle bit the inside of his cheek. “Anyone ever tell you how attractive you are?” He asked, watching Kenny snort and look away in pretense of checking his hair in the mirror. 

“Pshhh, well I’ll let you fuck me into the mattress later,” Kenny straightened his clothes needlessly, cheerfully. “Gladly. But now’s the time to be _serious,_ Kyle, I know how horny I make you when modeling your sweatshirts- OW.” 

The pillow didn’t hurt and Kyle knew it. He was changing lightning fast, rage fueling his actions. 

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Kyle swore, pulling on the hoodie he had on the night before and yanking on his jeans. “I’ll kill him.” 

“Depending on how this goes, I might let you!” Kenny said brightly, seeming to shine now. Like he was relieved about something. “Hurry it up, Hot Stuff.” 

Kyle’s eyes remained fixed on the blond. Here was a new side of Kenny he hadn’t been privy to. Confidence, intellect, wit. The mark of the vigilante intermixed with who he was as a person. Kyle wasn’t even sure anyone had gotten to see this before. 

For all Kenny’s qualms about Mysterion, Kyle had the distinct feeling that, in the end, the vigilante’s personality had been good for him.


	10. Burned

Kyle had a slouched hat hiding his curls, hands in his pockets as he walked next to Kenny. Now that he was more informed, he didn’t like being out in the open. He’d remained silent and stony the whole drive to the drop-off point by their Uber. 

He was a target. And without Kenny in uniform, he was causing the blond danger instead of the other way around as Kenny seemed to worry about.

“Stop freakin’ out,” Kenny told him, lightly nudging the arm of his boyfriend. “Just a little talk with an old friend.” 

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite,” Kyle told him, because no one worried like Kenny did, on the inside, about people he cared about. “Don’t try to pretend you’re happy-go-lucky about this.” 

“It’s just Cartman,” Kenny said again, close enough to brush arms. 

“Kenny,” Kyle reached to link their arms, his other hand over Kenny’s. “If you tell me to stop worrying again I’m going to kick your ass.” 

The boy seemed to decide it was best to say nothing. He went back to watching the streets, Kyle was left to try and puzzle everything out in his mind. 

“He has to be an informant,” He said, thinking aloud as he often did around Kenny. “He can’t be the person who wrote the letter.” 

“Why not?” The blond asked. “It’s his style. Insult and go after you for hanging out with someone he hates? Stupid-ass name? Smarmy, smarter-than-you desperation? Boom. The Cartman.” 

“It’s more-” Kyle’s brain flipped that information over again. “Cartman hates Mysterion? Or you?”

He _felt_ Kenny flinch, even if his outward appearance showed nothing. Kyle sent him a look, noticing Kenny wouldn’t look at him. 

“Kenny.” Kyle pulled on his arm, slowing him down. “What did you do?” 

The blond groaned. “You’re going to be angry.” 

Kyle’s heart dropped to his feet and he gripped Kenny's arm harder. Possessively. 

“Did you date him?” He asked, horrified, an actual chill freezing his body. That, at least, got a laugh from Kenny.

“No way,” He said, smiling grimly. “I'm not that much of a masochist. And anyway, I wasn’t exactly one of the people who caught his eye.” He eyed Kyle, to the side, in a way that the redhead’s mind refused to acknowledge. 

“No.” This was actual horror. Oh my fucking god. “Kenny, you’ve got to be kidding.” 

“Poor kid is c-l-o-s-e-t-e-d,” Kenny drew out the word sympathetically. “I feel bad for him, I do, but I would have actually been a little pissed if he’d caught you. Little pissed and a lot brokenhearted.” 

“No fucking way,” Kyle still couldn’t process this. “I would have killed him. He would have killed me.” 

“Oh God, yes, that would have ended in murder,” Kenny tsked his tongue. “I’ve been through shitty relationships like that, babe, wouldn’t wish it on anyone.” 

Kyle bit his tongue for a second to think before he spoke. Kenny didn’t talk about those relationships, not really, not even with Kyle. Most things he knew he’d figured out just by knowing Kenny that well. Luckily, he could reference his distaste without mentioning it. 

“I might still kill him,” Kyle began, and Kenny moved to step in front of him, pressing his hands against his chest, forcibly stopping him. 

“Don’t. Don’t even bring it up, I shouldn’t have said that,” Kenny’s expression and voice was dead serious, and Kyle honestly couldn’t believe him. 

“You’re joking-”

“I’m not.” Kenny gripped his shoulders. “Dead serious, Broflovski, I swear.”

Kyle was incredulous. “After everything he’s said to me, if you think I’m just going to forget that Fatass-”

“Kyle.” Kenny’s voice was so firm it startled the boy. “He’s been shitty, he’s been super, super shitty, to me, to everyone, and to you in particular but I’m asking you. Please.” 

That wasn’t fair. Kenny never asked him for things, Kyle couldn’t very well refuse it. Frustrated, he wanted an answer at least. 

“Why?” He asked, because acts of Goodwill did not apply to that person. He grew tired of forgiving him for dumb shit ages ago. Never again. 

He didn’t care if that made him a bad person. 

“I know what that’s like,” Kenny said gently, with a soft look he _had_ to know was melting Kyle’s will. “Let this one go. You’ll have lots of other things to be pissed at him for, anyway,” He finished brightly, gently brushing Kyle’s cheeks before letting go. 

Kyle was scowling, still reeling, but let that go. His expression told Kenny he better elaborate and luckily, the blond was feeling generous. 

“He does not know I’m Mysterion,” Kenny explained, “And we absolutely cannot tell him, because not only does he hate Mysterion…” He trailed off, smiling tightly. “Tell me you love me, Kyle.” 

Oh please. 

“I don’t think you can say anything at this point that’s going to startle me more, just go, Ken,” Kyle crossed his arms, waiting. Kenny exhaled, slowly. 

“He’s the Coon,” He finally admitted, wincing. 

“ _What_?!” Kyle remembered patching up those marks on his chest, long gashes from a fight that came to blows. “He was- and he- are you fucking serious?!”

“He doesn’t know I know and can’t, but it’s something I really think you need to know if he’s connected to all of this,” Kenny dragged a hand through his own hair. “I know, I should have told you-”

“Damn fucking right!” Kyle pulled the hat over his ears so far it was likely stretching beyond repair. “Cartman’s the Coon! He ripped you open! And you didn’t think to say anything- _anything_ -”

“You would have murdered him if you’d known,” Kenny pointed out, and Kyle was ready. 

“Yes I would have!” Cartman, their childhood friend, or frienemy, sliced Kenny’s stomach open and whether he knew or not-

“Yeah, well, I’m perfectly capable of killing whoever I want and I didn’t want you to,” The blond lightly kicked his ankle. “I shouldn’t have told you about the other thing but I need you to know about this because he is dangerous, Kyle, you don’t always treat him as competent and I don’t want you hurt.” 

Kenny was babbling now, something he wasn’t exactly prone to do, but this was a few too many bombs to drop into his lap. 

“I don’t have to mention you at all, but I’m damn well bringing up him attacking Mysterion if need be,” Kyle scowled when Kenny began shaking his head. They were wasting time, 

“He can’t know you know, it’s the whole point, _Kyle_!” 

He began walking away, towards the direction of the home, and Kenny sounded utterly frustrated as he kept pace beside him. 

“Dude, you’re such a dick,” Kenny groaned, as Kyle looked ahead towards the street. 

Fucking hell. He didn’t expect this much to be dropped on him, and this changed a few things. 

“Why would the Coon be feeding information to someone else about me?” Kyle puzzled, and Kenny had seemingly gotten over his annoyance in order to reply. 

“I still don’t get why you don’t think it’s just him,” The blond surveyed the street. 

“He’d mail a message like that straight to my house, or post it onto the internet for the world to see. He wouldn’t just send it to work.” No way. Not enough of a chance he’d get attention.”

Kenny made a sound of dissent, which turned into silence as the two walked. 

Cartman was the Coon. Had turned into a ‘hero’, one Kenny spoke poorly of when he spoke at all, someone who hurt Kenny and was in it for the publicity, only popping out in easier times to steal the spotlight. He hadn’t paid him the slightest bit of attention. 

Kenny grabbed Kyle’s arm, and after looking over the street, Kyle’s eyes landed on the townhouses Cartman lived at. 

His, the second over from the corner, the brick-front and tiny yard and small mailbox painting a picture of soft, easy home life. 

The front of the building was also blown out. 

Kenny and Kyle matched pace as they raced to the building, Kenny standing on the street and grabbing the back of Kyle’s sweatshirt to keep him from approaching. 

It looked like their home. Their home, someone had been there, someone he hadn’t known and had never seen in his life, Kenny- Kenny did something, he was angry, what had _happened_ -

“We need to go,” The blond’s voice was low, eyes fixed on the house. 

“Kenny,” After all that he was just going to leave without checking the house? After taking up for Cartman and telling Kyle to chill, he was going to just fucking leave. 

“By we I mean you, you aren’t leaving without me, so here we go-” Kenny was trying to steer him out of the way and something thundered underneath the ground they stood on. 

The two stumbled, thrown off their feet, Kyle flat on his back as light above him flashed brightly. The sky was alight, everything above the buildings pure white, sparks radiating heat and coloring the overcast sky. 

His ears were ringing. The light sparked again, from one side of the sky to the other, Kyle’s sweatshirt ridden up to expose his skin to rough asphalt. 

Kyle sat up, blinking through the imprints left on his eyelids, seeing Kenny crouched on his feet and squinting up at the sky. 

“Chaos!” Kenny called to Kyle, who had somehow ended up about twenty feet away from him. His eyes were wild, mosaic blue eyes staring up at the now-dim heavens. His gaze turned to Kyle, voice still loud. “I don’t have my uniform!” 

Things seemed to slow down in Kyle’s mind. Understanding that this was multiple layers of Kenny’s worst fear, then realizing what he was planning. 

Kyle looked over his shoulder, a tug towards what he knew was waiting. 

If he was Kenny, he’d rush into the fray and then off himself to keep people from knowing who he was. Keep Chaos from hurting anyone. 

Kyle didn’t know where he got his next idea, only that the vague idea was to beat Kenny to his own game before he threw himself in trouble. 

He was on his feet before the thought was full formed, and his sneakers slapped the pavement as he ran down the street, pulling his hood up over his hat. 

He heard his name, faintly, under the sound of his pulse, chest pounding. Another slow rumble, hearing the shiver of the lampposts as he passed, his own breath as he raced towards the commotion, past fire trucks and empty cars and hordes of people. 

It was Chaos, of course it was Chaos, dressed in greens and billowing cloth and metal, drifting about ten feet above the ground, he looked like he was throwing a tantrum. 

The Professor had his teeth grit, eyes flashing unnaturally, looking around wildly and screaming at the top of his lungs. 

This was…not normal behavior, even for Chaos. Something had him riled. Kyle followed his gaze, looking for something standing out from the fleeing people and abandoned cars on the street. 

“GET BACK HERE!” Chaos roared, sending a bolt running from the street, following an invisible line and flying up the next building, jumping along light posts and windows and cracking the brick in force. 

Kyle inwardly panicked. For a single moment, it was him in that building, trying to practice handling his powers- he had powers- with Kenny, and though something in that broken memory was _wrong,_ all he saw was the side of the store building peeling away in a face of brick like sloughing paint off an old wall. Bricks began spilling over the street as it leaned and groaned, over the road, three stories of old pipes and drywall and brick, and Kyle watched it fall. 

Something settled in him, he later described it. A determination, a promise, and an absolute absence of fear. 

Kyle’s hand shot out, and briefly he _felt_ the entirety of the wall. Pieces falling away from the main piece, the metallic groan of water and electric wires and pipes twisting unnaturally, the proximity to people. And then as quickly as he felt it, he was losing it, the sheer _weight_ of the thing making it hard to focus on and Kyle crouched, palms in front of his face, tunneling every thought and feeling and being into a singular spot and piece of the building. 

The brick slowed, just around Kyle, the rest crashing to the ground and showering him with brick powder and sparks from dislodged wires. He stepped, stumbling slightly from his sitting position to let the bricks fall behind him as he avoided the live wires to check the area. 

People were huddled behind cars, in buildings, screaming and there was almost a sensory overload, the wisp of feelings far too strong to be his own, and the blue tinge to everything he saw. 

Kyle looked up to see Chaos staring right at him, face white in rage, contorted beyond recognition in something like madness. 

“Not you!” He screeched, voice loud and low and sounding like it was tearing up his vocal chords. “Get OUT!” 

It was effortless, in retrospect. Kyle stared at him through the shield, focused, as the bright light swept over him, around him, trying to pick a weakness from the barrier between them and finding none this time, none. It was all about wanting one thing, and quieting the rest of it out. 

Kyle was hit from the side with something that burned, rolling with the impact. 

God, it hurt. Kyle writhed, not able to hear his own sounds of pain from the ringing in his ears, curling up on his side as his hearing gradually returned. He clutched at his side, having to peel his sweatshirt away from the oozing wounds. 

Oh god, there were holes in his skin, the charred, nauseating smell of burning flesh. Oozing liquid from skin that was never meant to resemble barbeque coals. His mind flashed to images of third degree burns in First Aid class, the horrible realization of reality, and he looked up with lips bleeding from how hard he’d bitten his lip. 

The villain wore reds and yellows and blues, orange goggles, and seemed to radiate heat. He was staring at Kyle with liquid spilling from his lips, rage in his face. 

He’d seen that one before, someone he’d never met, someone who wanted him dead. 

His skin felt too tight and stretched, the pain made him want to throw up, he was chilled and staring his death in the face, he knew it, he knew it as well as he knew this person didn’t know who he was, and didn’t care. 

They wanted people to die, because they would end up dead in the end if they didn’t stop this, and he’d be damned if he was going to go down without a fight. This was the new era. They’d fear them, and anyone who got in the way was just casualty at this point, in the grander scheme of things. 

Kyle was enraged. 

Senseless. It was senseless and that didn’t work with him. Everything had to have a reason, a logical standpoint, and the fact that someone would just seek him out because he’d had connections to Mysterion was idiotic. A rush of cold flooded over Kyle, like aloe over a sunburn. They’d kill him over that. Kill his partner over that. 

If people were going to paint them like Mysterion, like a villain, he was going to be certain he deserved it. 

“You deserve worse,” Kyle’s voice was cool, velvet, unbothered. Untouched by burnt flesh or blood, by the screams of bystanders and fleeing innocents. 

He saw the startled look on his face a second before the blue look of the world seemed to warp. A flash, pale blue and reassuring, connecting with the villain and sending him crumbling, screeching, clutching the same side he’d scorched Kyle on a moment previously. 

An eye for an eye, he’d aimed at the same place, letting Kyle share in his thoughts _and_ sharing in his pain. Poetically.

Kyle staggered to his feet, side burning but no longer feeling like he was legitimately about to die. He breathed in crushed drywall and brick, feeling the wound on his side still weepy but no longer resembling charred meat. 

Second degree, dangerous but no longer life-threatening if treated. He’d…he’d healed himself, when he’d gotten angry, that cool feeling…. 

Where was Chaos? 

Kyle turned, chapped lips parting for a word when he saw the skies empty. He scanned it, scanned the ground. No one, not a one, except for the burning hero trying to stand. 

Afraid of another firebolt- (when had he learned he was an Elemental?) Kyle struck first, a quick kick under the chin that dislodged his goggles, then a shove with his shoe firmly on the wound they now shared. 

The boy cried out, bleeding from the mouth, and emergency services were running towards them. 

It was firefighters, likely paramedics as well, but Kyle needed out of there, quick. His burn hadn’t reacted well to the kick and stretched painfully, making his eyes water as he fled, disappearing amongst the frantic crowd as he searched for Chaos. 

Oh my god. 

Oh my god, he just fought two villains at once…one of them Chaos! Without any knowledge of what he was doing but the memory that practicing with Kenny had been easier when he stopped worrying so much. 

Kenny had been right, his mind was simply too busy. 

Adrenaline was still pumping through his veins, and Kyle felt absolutely giddy. How had he- that shot from his eyes, it had burned, not as badly as a firebolt but with more force, he’d _healed_ himself, and he had the funny feeling he’d tried healing before and it hadn’t worked out, and it hadn’t been for him-

Kenny! 

Kyle breathed through chapped lips as he broke into a jog, holding his side and feeling the heat of flesh. Heal more, heal _more_ , but he was getting dizzy and he didn’t know if it was from the wound or from exertion. 

Or maybe shock. 

Could be shock, too. 

Kyle stumbled through the crowd, intending to circle back around past the firetrucks behind and find where he’d left Kenny, when he saw the blond trying to fly through the crowd like he was Moses in the Red Sea. 

Kyle had this funny little image, of running towards each other, and was struck with this overwhelming urge to kiss the boy senseless right there in the street. A flood of love and pride that he knew was his own, was familiar and strong, he’d drag him back to the hotel room himself and lose his mind with him because _they were both heroes_ and _Kenny hadn’t died_ and _Kyle could match him step for step_.

Kyle’s joyful, if maniac, grin faded to a widened eyed look when he saw Kenny’s face. 

Stricken, like he’d never seen it before, he was coated with dust and there were clear tear tracks smearing debris down his cheeks. 

Kyle slowed, letting himself be jostled by the crowd, eyes still trained on the boy who didn’t even see him, was looking around with utterly haunted eyes and manhandling the crowd like they were knee-high toddlers. 

Kenny had been crying. 

Kenny…Kenny did not cry. 

Kyle could count those instances he’d seen him cry on one hand, and he had a sudden, sickening feeling he knew why. 

“Kenny!” Kyle’s voice was shot but somehow, somehow the blond heard him, freezing in space and not moving an inch as he scanned the crowd. 

Kyle whipped off his hat, the shock of red hair being useful once in his life as Kenny scanned against and saw him, crying out and flying through the crowd like it was nothing but water. 

Kenny slammed against him with such force he would have fallen if the other hadn’t also clutched him tightly to himself, chest shaking with genuine, real sobs. 

Kyle was helpless. His side ached he dug his fingers into Kenny’s shirt, feeling the boy grab the nape of his neck, take a handful of his hair, cry against his skin in warm, shuddering breaths. 

He’d expected to either be jumped, or scolded, even have Kenny be furious. Maybe all three at once. 

He hadn’t expected terror. 

“I’m here,” Kyle said, smoothing his hands down Kenny’s back. His heart twisted and he might genuinely be sick. “I’m here. Kenny, I’m here.” 

“I couldn’t get to you,” The boy cried into his hair, dragging both hands through his curls. “I was- stopped I went around…you were…”

It must have not happened as slowly as Kyle thought. How long had it taken? 

“Screaming…” Kenny finished, arms around his neck, mouth pressed against his forehead in what wasn’t really a kiss. “You were screaming.” 

Kyle stared at his collarbone, unable to move, unable to blink, hearing Kenny be broken over what he thought was Kyle’s last moments. 

He’d…he’d rushed into that without thinking, he just…he’d faced Chaos, he’d faced that _thing,_ that inhuman monster who by now must have mixed into the crowd himself. Without Kenny. 

“I couldn’t reach you,” Kenny said the words like they were a personal fault. 

Kyle looked up at him, hands reached to brush his cheeks, further smear the dirt on his face and wiping away tears. 

He had a feeling furious wasn’t going to begin to describe what he was in for. But he looked up at his face and felt he was going to deserve this. 

They were both frightened, amazed, pained and homeless kids, and Kyle thought they were equally without a single clue what was happening or what would happen next. 

Kyle stumbled into something way bigger than himself. He hadn’t the slightest idea. 

But Kenny. 

Mysterion. 

“Home?” He managed to croak, emotion fogging his own mind, pain fogging his body, and Kenny refused to let go of him. 

A moment more, then. 

Kyle gently shifted foot to foot with his arms around Kenny, holding him just as tightly, one or both of them shaking as people parted around them, following emergency personnel to escape the place they’d called home.


End file.
